y

THE TRAGEDIES OF SENECA

DOUBLE BERMES OF SENECA AND SOCRATES

Now in the Old Museum at Berlin

&

The Tragedies of Seneca

TRANSLATED INTO ENGLISH VERSE, TO WHICH HAVE BEEN APPENDED

COMPARATIVE ANALYSES OF THE CORRESPONDING GREEK

AND ROMAN PLAYS, AND A MYTHOLOGICAL INDEX

BY

FRANK JUSTUS MILLER

INTRODUCED BY AN ESSAY ON THE INFLUENCE OK THK TRAGEDIES OF SENECA
UPON EARLY ENGLISH DRAMA

BY

JOHN MATTHEWS MANLY

CHICAGO
THE UNIVERSITY OF CHICAGO PR1

LONDON
T. FISHER UNWIN, i ADELPHI TERRACE

1907 /

A <

pft

Copyright 1907 By
Thk Umvkksity of Chicago

Published December 1907

Composed and Printed By

The University of Chicago Press

Chicago, Illinois, U. S. A.

TO

FRANK FROST ABBOTT

AND

EDWARD CAPPS

MY FRIENDS AND COLLEAGUES

THROUGH A SCORE OF YEARS

PREFACE

The place of the tragedies of Seneca in literature is unique. They
stand as the sole surviving representatives, barring a few fragments, of an
extensive Roman product in the tragic drama. They therefore serve as
the only connecting link between ancient and modern tragedy. They are,
moreover, modeled more or less closely after the tragedies of Aeschylus,
Sophocles, and Euripides; and the Greek and Roman product in literature
along parallel lines cannot be better studied than by a comparison of these
Senecan plays with their Greek prototypes — a comparison which is not
possible in comedy, since, unfortunately, the Greek originals of Plautus
and Terence have not come down to us.

These plays are of great value and interest in themselves, first, as inde-
pendent dramatic literature of no small merit; and second, as an illustration
of the literary characteristics of the age of Nero: the florid, rhetorical styleX
the long, didactic speeches, the tendency to philosophize, the frequent
epigram, the pride of mythologic lore.

Popular interest in the tragedies of Seneca has been growing to a con-
siderable extent during the last generation. This has been stimulated
in part by Leo's excellent text edition, and by the researches of German
and English scholars into Senecan questions, more especially into the
influence of Seneca upon the pre-Elizabethan drama; in part also by the
fact that courses in the tragedies have been regaining their place, long
lost, in college curricula.

The present edition seeks still further to bring Seneca back to the
notice of classical scholars, and at the same time to present to the English
reader all of the values accruing from a study of these plays, with the single
exception of the benefit to be derived from a reading of the original.
The influence which the tragedies have had in English literature is brought
out in the introduction, which Professor Manly has kindly contributed;
the relation of Seneca to the Greek dramatists is shown by comparative
analyses of the corresponding plays, so arranged that the reader may easily
observe their resemblances and differences; the wealth of mythological
material is at once displayed and made available by an index of mythologi-
cal characters; finally, it is hoped that the translation itself will prove to
be as faithful a reproduction of the original as is possible in a translation,

vii

viii Preface

and .it the same time bo have sufficient literary merit of its own to claim
tin- interest of the general reader.

The text used is that of Leo (Weidmann, Berlin, 1878), except in the
instances noted. The line numbers as printed in the translation are iden-
tieal with those of the original text. The meter employed in the spoken
parts is the English blank verse, with the exception of the Medea, in which

the experiment was tried, not altogether successfully, of reproducing the
iambic trimeter of the original. In the lyric parts, the original meters are
sometimes used; and, where these did not seem suitable in English, appro-
priate substitutes have been attempted.

Frank Justus Miller
Chicago, III.
October 25, 1907

TABLEjOF CONTENTS

PAGE

I. The Influence of the Tragedies of Seneca upon Early

English Drama i

II. The Tragedies of Seneca Translated

u^Oedipus n *S

Phoenissae 51

^*Medea 79 /•

*s Hercules Furens 115

;/

""^ Phaedra or Hippolytus 165

yHercuIes Oetaeus 213

t/ JThyestes 287 <s

ies 333

Agamemnon 379

■Octavia, with a Review of the Roman Historical Drama 415

III. Comparative Analyses of Seneca's Tragedies and the

Corresponding Greek Dramas 453

IV. Mythological Index 497

IX

INTRODUCTORY ESSAY

THE INFLUENT!-: OF THE TRAGEDIES OF SENECA UPON
EARLY ENGLISH DRAMA

To appreciate fully the nature and the extent of the influence of Seneca
upon English tragedy in the days of Shakespeare and his immediate prede-
cessors, we must bear in mind that the public theaters were not the only
places at which plays were then produced. At the universities, at the
inns of court (which may be roughly described as combinations of a law
school and a very exclusive social club), and at the Court itself plays were
an important feature of almost every festival. Even those of us who know
these facts are very likely to fail to realize the full meaning of them. We
are likely to regard the non -professional performances as having no more
significance for the history of the drama than amateur performances at
the present day by dramatic clubs and college societies. We are apt to
forget that, in the spacious days of great Elizabeth, learning, especially
classical learning, had a value, an importance, a dignity, which not even
the most academic of us now feels it to have. Our generation, busied
above all things with making a living or with accumulating wealth, regards
the scholar as, with the poet and the artist, the most unpractical and useless
of men at best, tolerated as an ornamental creature whom society can
afford to keep if it does not have to pay him more than it pays a butler or a
chauffeur. To the men of the Renaissance, scholarship and the scholar
had a unique and inestimable value. Ordinary business, in their view,
enabled man to provide a living; religion taught him how to save his soul;
scholarship, the knowledge of the literature and life of the Greeks and the
Romans, enabled him to distinguish his life as a man from that of a beast,
to approach as nearly as possible to that ideal type toward which they
strove, the iiomo universale, the perfect gentleman, complete mash r of
his body, of his mind, of his passions. To men of these views and this
temper, literature — first, classical literature and then the vernacular litera-
ture produced under the stimulus of it — was of supreme importance,
and the drama was perhaps the most important form of literature. The.
value of literature for those who were then trying to transform the world,
to rebuild it and thems< ! rer to the heart's desire, was of course besti

recognized by the finest spirits of the age, men like Erasmus, Thomas
More, Walter Rait igh, Edmund Sjxmscr, Philip Sidney. But it seems to
have been felt, though in cruder ways, even by the vulgar. An amusing

3

Tim TRAGEDIES Of Sen ec a

illustration of this is the little record kepi by old Simon Forman, a noted
mountebank and quark doctor, in 1610 and 161 1. It lias preserved for us
our earliest QOticeSOI performances of Macbeth, Cytnbelinr, and A Winter's
; hut this is accidental. The doctor's intention was merely to note
for his own guidance such lessons as he learned from the plays presented on
the stage. Such benefits were, according to tin- views of wiser men, to
be gained chiefly from comedies; tragedy, and classical tragedy in par-
ticular, had a finer, a more permanent value. Tragedy was the voice of
the wisest nun of the world, the ancients, upon the most serious themes of
human life; it not only, as Aristotle had said, purified the mind through
pity and terror, it fortified the inner life, and both by example and by
sententious maxim prepared man to meet the most subtle attacks of fate,
the temptations of success, or the discouragements of failure. Tragedy
therefore had a unique value for the Elizabethans, and the performances
of classical plays, or those written in imitation of the classics, by the univer-
sities or the inns of court, did not fall into the abyss which now receives
amateur theatricals.

Failure to take account of the value attached to the lessons and the
examples of tragedy may perhaps account for the misunderstanding
which exists so widely, even among scholars, in regard to the first tragedy
in English, Gorboduc, or Ferrex and Porrex. Everyone knows that this
was written in direct imitation of Seneca, and everyone discusses glibly
its Senecan features, the bloody theme, the division into five acts, the use
of the chorus, the removal of the action from the view of the spectators,
the long speeches; but critics are, without exception, offended to the heart
by the fifth act, and especially by the two long disquisitions of Arostus and
Eubulus. It is, however, no exaggeration to say that the play exists solely
for the sake of these speeches. This was not a mere academic exercise. It
was a serious attempt by some of the most thoughtful men of England to
move the queen, Elizabeth, to a course of action which they regarded as
absolutely essential to the welfare of the realm. Other attempts to secure
the same end were made by her best statesmen throughout the reign. The
failure of this effort was not due to the weakness of the tragedy, but, like
the failure of all the rest, to some feature of Elizabeth's character or
some circumstance in her life which has not yet been fully and convincingly
explained. The purpose of the writers is clear. They wished to persuade
Elizabeth to marry and settle once for all the succession to the throne of
England. They, in common with all thoughtful and patriotic English-
men, feared the horrors of an unsettled succession or a divided rule. These

Introductory Essay

they tried to impress upon her mind and heart by examples drawn from
the history of Gorboduc and his sons, and by maxims and exhortations
presented in the most authoritative form known to them, the form of
Senecan tragedy. The occasion chosen was a great festival given by the
gentlemen of the Inner Temple, one of the most important and influential
of the inns of court referred to above.

Classical tragedy had, then, as we can readily see, a prestige to which!
hardly anything in literature corresponds at the present day. The states-
man who should today wish to influence his sovereign to an important
course of action would doubtless be puzzled to find any form of literature —
academic or unacademic — appropriate to the task in dignity and authority.'

It is not strange, therefore, that classical tragedy, the tragedy of the
schools and the learned societies, must be taken seriously into account in
estimating the forces which shaped the drama of the popular stage. It is
true that the English tragedies in classical or Senecan form were none of
them written for the public stage. It is even probable that they would
not have been successful upon it. It is a mistake to treat them historically
and critically, as if they belonged to the direct line of development which
resulted in Faustus and The Spanish Tragedy and Macbeth and Lear and
Othello. But none the less the influence of these academic plays was very
real and very important.

The ways in which this influence was exercised may be noted, as having
some bearing upon the nature and extent of the influence. In the first
place, there was in the early days no very rigid line between the academic
and the popular performers. The Children of the Chapel Royal were at
one time the leading theatrical company in London. When the queen
visited Oxford in 1566, there were among the several plays presented by
the university, not only the Latin tragedy, Progne, of Dr. James Calfhill,
but also the English Palamon and Ar cite of Richard Edwards, Master of Her
Majesty's Children and the most popular dramatist of his day. Edwards
himself trained the students who produced his play, and it was a great
success; according to a contemporary report, "certain courtiers said that
it far surpassed Damon and Pythias, than which they thought nothing could
be better; likewise some said that if the author did any more before his
death, he would run mad." Any impressions made upon Edwards by
Dr. Calfhill's Progne wcrr doubtless lost to art, as Edwards died before the
end of the year; but this was probably not the first occasion on which the
Mister of the Chapel Children had visited the university in behalf of the
drama, and Edwards himself had Ix-en both a scholar and a probationary

Tim Tragedies <> v Seneca

fellow there. Certainly his famous Damon and Pythias shows some

evidences of the influence of Seneca.

It is well known also that the most successful writers for the public

je in the yean just preceding Shakespeare's advent, the years that
determined the form- and the methods of the popular drama, were educated
at the universities, and, however clearly they may have recognized the
necessity of supplying to the populace story, action, the raw material of
life and philosophy, cherished as an ideal the Senecan interest in situation,
the Senecan love for broad description, for introspection and reflection,
for elaborate monologue, and catchy sententiousness. Such were Greene
and Peek and Marlowe; and Thomas Kyd, author of that most popular
of plays, Tlw Spanish Tragedy, and probable author of the version of
// :>n!rt which held the stage for fourteen years before Shakespeare revised
it and gave it a new and a different life, though not bred in either university,
was more zealous about his Latin and apparently more influenced by
S Decs than the university men themselves.

But, says some modern classical scholar, granting that these early
dramatists were university men or men, like Kyd and Shakespeare, not
trained in the universities but all the more zealous to match their produc-
ti >ns with those which bore the official mark of classical scholarship, why
i should Seneca, a second-rate Roman tragedian, be continually cited in
(connection with classical influence instead of Aeschylus and Sophocles and
Euripides, the supreme masters of ancient tragedy, and Aristotle, the
unique expositor of the theory of the drama ? The men of the Renaissance
(Would have had a ready answer. In the first place, they knew very little

it the Greek tragedians, or, for that matter, about Greek literature
In general ; for although the rediscovery of Greek literature was undoubtedly
one of the events of that remarkable spurt of the human intellect and

Spirit which we call the Renaissance, Greek literature and life were, after
11, in every country of Europe, far less important than Latin, as models for
imitation, as sources of inspiration, as objects which engaged the attention
of the moderns and set the pace which they tried to follow. As for tragedy,
a few scholars in Italy and France and Germany and England knew
Sophocles and Euripides — Aeschylus was almost unknown — but the theory
and the practice of tragedy among the classicists were based almost exclu-
sively upon the example of Seneca and the precepts of Horace. Aristotle
is, indeed, often cited as the ultimate authority, but, although the voice
may be the voice of Aristotle, the opinions are usually those of Scaliger or
Minturno or Robortelli or Castelvetro, opinions which reduced to in viol-

Introductory Essay

able laws what Aristotle had merely stated as observed practices, and which
supplemented these rules by others drawn from the plays of Seneca, who
was, according to these critics, the most majestic, the most tragic, the most
perfect of the ancient tragedians. That Seneca's majesty seems to critics
of today bombast, that his triumph in tragic quality consists in an accumu- 1
lation of horrors and a consistently unfortunate ending, that his perfection!
of form is no more than a formal schematism, clear because it is simple and
lifeless — all this may be true but is beside the mark. To the best spirits
of the Renaissance, whether critical or creative, the ten tragedies which
bore the name of Seneca presented the ideal of tragic art toward which]
m idem writers should strive if they would be perfect.

What, then, was the influence of Seneca in England? Two excellent
Studies of different phases of it have been published, both, unfortunately,
less known than they should be.

The purely formal influence, the influence upon dramatic technique'
and upon composition in the large sense of the term, is the subject of Rudolf )
Fischer's Die Kunslentwicklung der englischen Tragodie, perhaps the most
in 4 aious and adequate scheme ever devised for the analysis of the technical
and compositional features of any form of art. Fischer sees in the history
of English tragedy before Shakespeare a steady approximation to the Sene-
can type. His argument is open to several objections. In the first place,
he treats as if they belonged to the same simple line of development plays
written for the public stage and the popular taste and those written for
special audiences dominated by scholastic ideals. In the second place, as
Professor Luick has pointed out, he has disregarded the influence exercised
by the original form of the story dramatized upon the dramatic presentation
of it. And, furthermore, he, in common with other students of the subject,
has proceeded upon the assumption that only tragedy could have had any
influence upon tragedy. He has neglected that remark of Ben Jonson's, »
which phrases the view not of his own time only but of all ages, "The parts )
of a comedy are the same with a tragedy," and has failed to see that for j
the structure of English tragedy, Roman comedy and the serious imitations
of it by the men of the Renaissance — such as Gnapheus' Acolastus, Mac-
ropedius' Asotus and Rebelles, and their anonymous English offspring,
The Nice IFa»/o«— are no less important than the example of Seneca
himself. But his book is interesting and enlightening as few books on any
subject are.

Entirely different problems are dealt with in J. W. Cunliffe's little
volume on The Influence of Seneca on Elizabethan Tragedy, a book which,

8 The Tkaobdies <> k Seneca

to the regret of many scholars, has long been oul of print, and which
the author ought to reprint with Buch additions as his continued study of
the subject may suggest. Mr. Cunliffe ismainh concerned with showing
why Seneca appealed to the Elizabethans and with pointing out certain

details of theme, of situation, of theatrical effects, and of expression, which
the popular playwrights owed to Seneca.

To SeneCS and the false Aristotle created by the humanists from the
Potties, the precepts of Horace, the definitions and maxims which sifted
d >wn through the encyclopaedists of the Middle Ages, and the example
of - . not only the men of the Renaissance but even we of today owe

n • of our most cherished ideas concerning tragedy. First of all, perhaps,
is the belief that tragedy must end unhappily. The Greeks — whether
creators or critics —had no such theory. It was enough for Sophocles and
Aristotle that tragedy should be serious in theme and dignified in characters
and in language. In the second place, we ordinarily believe that a tragedy
should have five acts, and many of us can draw a diagram to prove it.
Shakespeare and his fellows seem to have been dominated by the same
theory, difficult as they sometimes found it to observe. The sacred unities,
dominant so long in Italian and French tragedy, though never observed
in any English play more notable than Addison's Cato, we have learned to
disregard and even to decry, though such an attitude in the Elizabethan
age awakened the censure of Philip Sidney and doubtless required some
hardihood or even recklessness. The chorus also we have long since
abandoned, but Greene and Peele and Kyd and Marlowe and Shakespeare \
and others of their time used it more than once and with good effect. They
. even, in some instances, combined with it the ghosts and infernal spirits,
which beyond a doubt they owed to Seneca, and made this unearthly chorus,
not only the commentator, but in some sense the subtle director of the action.
Perhaps the most refined form of this is to be seen in the Ghost in Hamlet,
who, though he does not appear technically as Chorus, yet recalls by his
original incitement of the action and his later intervention to renew and
'direct it, as well as by his language and his attitude, the ghosts of Tantalus,
Thyestes, Laius, and Agrippina in Seneca, and the spirits of Andrea and
Revenge in The Spanish Tragedy. It is perhaps not going too far to find
in the dream-setting of Hauptmann's Elga some reminiscence of Shake-
speare's Taming oj the Shrew and Greene's James IV, and consequently,
in a remote sense, of Seneca's introductory figures, Tantalus, Thyestes, and
the rest.

But these matters and the striking resemblances in situation and in

Introductory Essay

utterance cited so abundantly by Cunliffe and by Munroe (Journal of
Philology, Vol. VI, pp. 70-79), though they could be increased by many pas-
sages in Macbeth and King Lear as well as in the plays of other dramatists
than Shakespeare, are after all not fundamental. Some other features
that seem fundamental may be noted.

In the first place, although it is doubtless true that the scanty scenery'
of the Elizabethan stage is largely the excuse and the reason for the long
descriptive passages with which the dramatists of that time delighted
themselves and delight us, their modern readers, this is perhaps not the
whole of the story. There are passages of exposition, of reflection, of pure /
declamation, equally long as well as equally beautiful. The Renaissance
love of talk, of fine language, of eloqitcntia, may explain this in part; but
it is doubtless due in part also to the example of Seneca, who never loses an
opportunity for a long passage of description or introspection or reflection
or mere declamation — making them indeed for the Chorus when the situa-
tion does not allow them to the ordinary dramatis personae.

Then we may note that the thoroughly melodramatic character of
Elizabethan tragedy is a natural inheritance from Seneca. Greek tragedy
had, to be sure, many melodramatic situations, along with others of a
milder type. But the religious element in the tragedy of Aeschylus and
Sophocles radically modifies the character and tone of the most poignant,
and repulsive themes and situations. When Seneca took the most difficult
of Greek themes and, following the lead of Euripides, cast away the over-
ruling, compulsive dominance of the Greek theocracy, he produced melo-
drama. Most moderns have been either content to follow him or compelled
to do so for lack of the ability to create striking situations without the aid
of villains of melodramatic criminality. A few of the French tragedians
have had recourse to the method of the Greeks either by reviving the Greek
mythology and theocracy or by resorting to Hebrew history for characters
whose deeds, however criminal, were necessary parts of a divine plan.
Shakespeare, almost alone, has at his best succeeded in substituting for the '
gods and fate the inevitable results of human character and the moral law, i
in presenting the worst deeds of his leading figures as less the results of
free intention than of futile efforts to deliver themselves from the web of
circumstance which their first crimes or follies have woven about them —
the whole career of Macl>eth, for example, being the necessary outcome of
his attempt to get free of tin- difficulties and dangers brought upon him by
the murder of Duncan.

Speculation as to what the English drama might have been if Sophocles

io The T&A0BDIS8 of Seneca

Instead of Seneca had been its inspiration and its model is idle. The men
of the Renaissance did ool understand Sophocles; his stage, the mode of
production of his plays, his aim, the whole nature of his art, were beyond
the scholarship of their day. And it is doubtful whether they could in any
event have made so successful a combination of the Greek and the national
or mediaeval drama as they made of Senec an tragedy and the dramatic
forms tluv already possessed.

In one thing, at any rate, the English drama was especially fortunate,
that is, in the fact that its form and its content were so largely determined
by two such remarkable men as Marlowe and Shakespeare. The condi-
tions in France in the sixteenth century were strikingly similar to those in
England, except for the number of public theaters. M. Petit de Julleville
points out that France as well as England possessed every item of the motley
list of dramatic types enumerated by Polonius; and he continues: "Rien
n'emj)echait alors qu'un Shakespeare naquit en France; les circonstances
n'etaient-clles pas merveilleusement favorables ? Mais, en depit de cer-
taines theories, les grands hommes ne paraissent pas tout juste au moment
ou ils sont necessaires. II nous fallait un Shakespeare; il naquit un
Alexandre Hardy!"

OEDIPUS

OEDIPUS

DRAMATIS PERSONAE

Oedipus . . King of Thebes; the son, as he supposed, of Polybus,
king of Corinth, and Merope, his wife, but found to be
the son of Laius and Jocasta.

Jocasta . . . Wife and, as the play develops, found to be also the mother
of Oedipus.

Creon .... A Theban prince, brother of Jocasta.

Tiresias . . . A celebrated prophet of Thebes, now old and blind.

Manto . . . His daughter.

Old Man . . Sent from Corinth to announce to Oedipus the death of

Polybus.
Phorbas . . . Head-shepherd of the royal flocks of Thebes.
Messenger. . Who announces the self-inflicted blindness of Oedipus and

the suicide of Jocasta.
Chorus ... Of Theban elders.

The scene is laid before the royal palace of Thebes; the play opens]
in the early morning of the day within which the tragedy is consummated. T

An orade once came to Lotus, king of Thebes, that he should perish
by his own son's hands. When, therefore, a son was born to hint, he gave
the infant to his chief oj shepherds to expose on Mount Cilhaeron. But
the tenderhearted rustic gave the babe instead to a wandering herdsman oj
Polybus, the king oj Corinth.

rs later, a reputed son of Polybus, Oedipus by name, jearing an
oraele which doomed him to slay his father and wed his mother, fled jrom
(. 'orinth, that so he might escape this dreadful jate. As he jarcd northward,
lie met and slew an old man who imperiously disputed the narrow way with
him. L'pon arriving at the 7'heban land, he read the riddle oj the Sphinx,
and SO destroyed th it monster which Juno had sent to harass the land which
she hated: and jor this service, Oedipus was made the husband oj Jocasta,
the widowed queen of Lotus (who had recently been slain upon the road),
and set upon the vacant throne.

Now other years have passed, and sons and daughters have been born
to the royal pair. But now a dreadful pestilence afflicts the state. Oedipus
has sent C 'reon to consult the oracle, to learn the cause and seek the means
of deliverance from the scourge. And while he wails his messenger's return,
the murky dawn still finds him gria'ing for his kingdom's wretched plight.

( )edipus:

ACT I

Now night has fled; and with a wavering gleam

Returns the sun; all wrapped in murky clouds

His beams arise, and with their baleful light

Shall soon look forth upon our stricken homes,

And day reveal the havoc of the night. 5

Oh, who in all this realm is glad? O fate,

That seemest good, how many ills lie hid

Behind thy smiling face! As lofty peaks

[osl feel the winds' abuse; and as the cliff,
That with its rocky front divides the deep,
The waves of e'en a quiet sea assail; 10

Si i is the loftiest power the most exposed
To hostile fate's assaults.

'Twas well conceived
That I should flee the kingdom of my sire,
Old Polybus, and from my fears be freed,
A homeless exile, dauntless, wandering.
Be heaven and all the gods my witnesses,
I chanced upon this realm. Yet even now
The dreadful fear remains that by my hand 15

My sin- shall die. Thus spoke the Delphic god.
And still another, greater sin he showed.
And can there be a blacker crime than this,
A father slain ? Oh, cursed impiety!
'Twere shame to tell the hideous oracle:

For Phoebus warned me of my father's couch, 20

And impious wedlock. 'Twas the fear of this

That drove me headlong from my father's realm,

And for no sin I left my native land.

All self-distrustful did I well secure

Thy sacud laws, 0 mother Nature; still, 25

When in the heart a mighty dread abides,

Though well assured it cannot lx' fulfilled,

The fear remains. I fear exceedingly,

Nor can I trust myself unto myself.

IS

i6

The Tragedies of Seneca

And even now the Gates are aimed at me.

I or what am I to think, when this fell pest,
Although it lays its blighting hand on all, 3°

Spans me al.nc? For what m-w horror now
Am I reserved ? Amidst my city's woes,
'Mid funeral pyres thai ever must be wet
With tears of grief afresh, 'mid heaps of slain,
I stand unscathed. Ami couldst thou hope that thou,
A culprit at the bar of God, shouldst gain 35

For guilt a wholesome kingdom in return?
\ iv, rather, I myself infect the air.
For now no breeze with its soft breath relieves
Our spirits suffocating with the heat;
No gentle zephyrs breathe upon the land;
But Titan with the dog-star's scorching fires
Doth parch us, pressing hard upon the back
Of Nemea's lion. From their wonted streams
The waters all have fled, and from the herbs
Their accustomed green. Now Dirce's fount is dry;
While to a trickling rill Ismenus' flood
Hath shrunk, and barely laves the naked sands.
Athwart the sky doth Phoebus' sister glide
With paling light, and, 'mid the lowering clouds, 45

The darkling heavens fade. No starlight gleams
„ Amid the gloomy silence of the night,
But heavy mists brood low upon the earth;
And those bright mansions of the heavenly gods
Are sicklied over with the hues of hell.
The full-grown harvest doth withhold its fruit;
And, though the yellow fields stand thick with corn, 50

Upon the stalk the shriveled grain is dead.
No class is free from this destructive plague,
But every age and sex falls equally;
Where youth with age, and sire with son are joined,
And wife and husband are together burned. 55

Now funerals claim no more their wonted grief;
The magnitude of woe hath dried our eyes;
And tears, the last resource of woeful hearts,
Have perished utterly. The stricken sire

40

Oedipus 17

Here bears his son unto the funeral flames; 60

And there the mother lays her dead child down,

And hastes to bring another to the pyre.

Nay, in the midst of grief a new woe springs;

For, while they minister unto the dead,

Themselves need funeral rites. Anon they burn

With others' fires the bodies of their friends.

The fire is stol'n, for in their wretchedness 65

No shame remains. No separate tombs receive

The hallowed bones; mere burning is enough.

How small a covering their ashes need !

And yet the land does not suffice for all;

And now the very woods have failed the pyre.

Nor prayers nor skill avail to serve the sick,

For even they who own the healing art

Are smitten down. The baleful pestilence

Removes the check that would restrain its force. 70

So, prostrate at the altar, do I fall
And, stretching suppliant hands, I pray the gods
To grant a speedy end; that in my death
I may anticipate my falling throne,
Nor be myself the last of all to die,
The sole surviving remnant of my realm.
O gods of heaven, too hard ! O heavy fate ! 75

Is death to be denied to me alone,
So easy for all else ? Come, fly the land
Thy baleful touch has tainted. Leave thou here
The grief, the death, the pestilential air,
Which with thyself thou bring'st. Go speed thy flight
To any land, e'en to thy parents' realm. 80

Jocasta [who has entered in time to hear her husband's last words]: What

boots it, husband, to augment thy woes
With lamentations ? For I think, indeed,
(This very thing is regal, to endure
(Adversity, and all the mure to stand.
With heart more valiant and with foot more sure,
When the weight of empire totters to its fall. 85

For 'tis not manly to present thy back
To fortunes's darts.

, 8 Til E T r"a G i i' i i s OP S k"n E C A

Oedipus: N"' llliiu' ,,H' .^uil1 ()f fr;ir;

M\ valor lids no such Ignoble throes.

Should swords be drawn againsl me, should the jxjwer,

Tlir dreadfu] power of Mars upon me rush, 9°

Against the wry giants would I stand.

The Sphinx I fled not when she wove her words

In mystic measures, but I bore to look

Upon the bloody jaws of that fell bard,

And on the ground, all white with scattered bones.

But wlnn, from a lofty cliff, with threatening mien, 95

The baleful creature poised her wings to strike,

And, like a savage lion, lashed her tail,1

In act to spring; still did I dare my fate

And ask her riddle. Then with horrid sound

Of deadly jaws together crashed, she spake;

The while her claws, impatient of delay,

And eager for my vitals, rent the rock. too

But the close-wrought words of fate with guile entwined,

Arid that dark riddle of the wingt'd beast

Did I resolve.
Jocasta: What meant'st then thou by these

Thy maddened prayers for death ? Thou mightst have died.

But no; the very scepter in thy hand

Is thy reward for that fell Sphinx destroyed. 105

Oedipus: Yea that, the artful monster's cruel shade,

Doth war against me still. Now she alone,

In vengeance for her death, is wasting Thebes.

But now, one only way of safety still is left,

If Phoebus show us not of safety all bereft.

[Enter the Chorus of Theban elders, deploring the violence 0}

the plague.]
Chorus: How art thou fall'n, O glorious stock no

Of Cadmus, thou and Thebes in one !
How dost thou see, poor ruined Thebes,
Thy lands laid waste and tenantless.
And thou, O Theban Bacchus, hear:
That hardy soldiery of thine,

' Reading, caudam

Oedipus 19

Thy comrades to the farthest Ind,

Who dared invade the Eastern plains, 115

And plant thy banners at the gates of dawn —
Behold, destruction feeds on them.
They saw the blessed Arabes,
'Mid spicy groves; and the fleeing steeds
Of the Parthian, deadliest when he flees;
They trod the marge of the ruddy sea, 120

Where Phoebus his rising beams displays,
And the day reveals; where his nearer fires
Darken the naked Indians.
Yea we, that race invincible,

Beneath the hand of greedy fate 125

Are falling fast.
The gloomy retinue of death
In march unceasing hurries on;
The grieving line unending hastes
_To the place of death. Space fails the throng.
/ For, though seven gates stand open wide, 130

Still for the crowding funerals
'Tis not enough ; for everywhere
Is carnage seen, and death treads hard
Upon the heels of death.
The sluggish ewes first felt the blight,
For the woolly flock the rich grass cropped
To its own doom. At the victim's neck 135

The priest stood still, in act to strike;
But while his hand still jxnsed the blow,
Behold, the bull, with gilded horns,
Fell heavily; whereat his neck,
Beneath the shock of his huge weight,
Was broken and asunder yawned.

No blood the sacred weapon stained, 140

But from the wound dark gore oozed forth.
The steed a sudden languor feels,
And stumbles in his circling course,
While from his downward-sinking side
His rider falls.
The abandoned flocks lie in the fields; 145

20

The Tragedies of Seneca

The bull amid his dying herd
I- pining; and the Bhepherd fails
Hi-, s. .miy Bock, fox he himself
'Mid his vrasting kine is perishing.
The stag ao more fears the rave-nous wolf;
V' longer the lion's roar is heard; 150

The shaggy bear has lost her rage,
And the lurking serpent his deadly sling;
For parched and dying now he lies,
With venom dried.

\'o more do the woods, with leafage crowned,
Spread out their shade in the mountain glens; 155

No more are fields with verdure clad;
No vines bend low with laden arms;
For the very earth has felt the breath
Of our dire pestilence.

Through the riven bars of Erebus, 160

With torches lit in Tartara,
The raging band of the Furies troop;
Dark Phlegethon has changed his course,
And forced the waters of the Styx
To mingle with our Theban streams.
[^Grim Death opes wide his greedy jaws, 165

And all his baleful wings outspreads.
And he who plies that swollen stream
In his roomy skiff, though his age is fresh
And hardy, scarce can raise his arms,
O'erwearicd with his constant toil

And the passage of the endless throng. 170

'Tis even rumored that the dog
Hath burst the chains of Taenara,
And through our fields is wandering.
Now dreadful prodigies appear:
The earth gives out a rumbling sound,
And ghosts go stealing through the groves,
Larger than mortal forms; and twice 175

The trees of our Cadmean woods
Have trembled sore and shed their snows;
Twice Dirce flowed with streams of blood;

Oedipus 21

And in the stilly night we heard

The baying of Amphion's hounds.

Oh, cruel, strange new form of death, 180

And worse than death ! The sluggish limbs

Arc with a weary languor seized;

The sickly cheek with fever burns,

And all the head with loathsome sores

Is blotched. Now heated vapors rise

And scorch with fever's flames the brain

Within the body's citadel,

And the throbbing temples swell with blood. 185

The eyeballs start; the accursed fire

Devours the limbs; the cars resound,

And from the nostrils dark blood drips

And strains apart the swelling veins. 190

Now quick convulsions rend and tear

The inmost vitals.

Now to their burning hearts they strain

Cold stones to soothe their agony;

And they, whom laxer care permits,

Since they who should control are dead,

The fountains seek, and feed their thirst 195

With copious draughts. The smitten throng

All prostrate at the altars lie

And pray for death; and this alone

The gods, compliant, grant to them.

Men seek the sacred fanes, and pray,

Not that the gods may be appeased,

But glutted with their feast of death. 200

[Creon is seen approaching.]
But who with hasty step the palace seeks ?
Is this our Creon, high in birth and deed,
Or does my sickened soul see false for true ?
'Tis Creon 's self, in answer to our prayer. 205

ACT II

[Enter Creon.]
Oedipus: I quake with horror, and I fear to know
The tendency of fate. My trembling soul
Strives 'neath a double load; for joy and grief

2 a

The Trace i>ii:s or Seneca

( 'rri'ii:

ipus:

( ><•<>;/;
( )edipus:
Creon:

Lie mingled still in dark obscurity.

I .shrink from knowing what 1 long to know.
Wherefore, <> brother of my consort, speak;
And if to weary hearts thou bring'sl relief,
With quickened utterance thy news proclaim.

In dark obscurity the answer lies.

Who gives me doubtful succor grants mc none.

It is the custom of the Delphic god

In dark enigmas to conceal the fates.

Yet speak; however dark the riddle be

"I'is given to Oedipus alone to solve.

Apollo doth ordain that banishment

Be meted out to him who slew our king,

And so our murdered Laius be avenged;

For only thus shall we again behold

The day's clear light, and drink safe draughts of air.

Who was the slayer of the noble king ?

Tell who is designated by the god,

That he th' allotted punishment may pay.

May it be granted me to tell the things

To sight and hearing dreadful. At the thought,

Xumb horror holds my limbs, my blood runs cold.

When to Apollo's hallowed shrine I came

With reverent feet, and pious hands upraise*!,

Parnassus' double-crested, snowy peak

Gave forth a fearful crash, the laurels shook,

And fair Castalia's waters ceased to flow.

The priestess of the son of Lato then

Began to spread her bristling locks abroad,

And felt the inspiration of the god.

Scarce had she reached the sacred inner shrine,

When with a roar, beyond the voice of man,

There sounded forth this doubtful oracle:
"Kind shall the stars return to the Theban city of Cadmus,

If, O fugitive guest, Ismenian Dirce thou leavest,
C Stained with the blood of a king, from infancy known to Apollo.
Brief shall be thy joys, the impious joys of slaughter.
With thee war thou bringest, and war to thy children thou leavest,
Foul returned once more to the impious arms of thy mother."

210

215

220

( )edipus:

Crcon

225

230

235

Oedipus 23

Oedipus: What I at heaven's command now meditate,

Long since should have been rendered to the king, 240

That none by craft might violate the throne.
And most doth it become a sceptered king
To guard the life of kings; for none lament
The death of him whose safety breedeth fear.
Creon: Our care for him a greater fear removed.
Oedipus: What fear so great that duty to prevent? 245

Creon: The Sphinx and her accursed riddle's threats.
Oedipus: Then now at heaven's command shall be atoned

That impious deed.

Whoever of the gods

Dost look with kindly eye upon our realm;

And thou, whose hand doth guide the rolling sphere;

And thou, O glory of the smiling sky, 250

Who in thy wandering course dost rule the stars,

And with thy flying wheels dost measure out

The slow procession of the centuries;

Thou sister of the sun, night-wanderer,

Who ever dost reflect thy brother's fires;

And thou, great ruler of the boisterous winds,

Who o'er the level deep dost drive thy car; 255

And thou, who dost allot the sunless homes:

May he, by whose right hand king Laius fell,
j No peaceful home, no trusty lares find;

And may no land in hospitality

Receive his cheerless, exiled wanderings.

O'er shameful marriage may he live to grieve, 260

And monstrous progeny. May he his sire

By his own hand destroy; and may he do

(What doom more dreadful can I imprecate?)

The deed which by my flight I did not do.

No room for pardon shall lx- given him;

By this my regal scepter do I swear,

Both by the sway which I as stranger hold,

And that I left behind; by my household gods, 265

And thee. () Neptune, who with shorter waves

And twofold current dost disport thyself

Upon my native Corinth's double shores.

-1

Thi Tragedies op Seneca

And thou thyself Ik- witness t<> my words,

Who dost inspire the fate revealing lips

Oi Cirrha's priestess: so may Polybus, 270

My royal father, spend a quiel age,

And end his days is peace upon the throne;

Ami so may Merope, my mother, know

Tin- marriage of her Polybus alone,

As from my grasp no favoring power shall snatch

That guilty one, who basely slew the king.

Hut tell me, where was that foul murder done?

In open fight, or was he basely snared ? 275

Crcon: In quest of cool Castalia's sacred fount

And kafy woods, along the way he fared,

On either side with tangled thickets hedged.

'Twas where the road, three-forked, spreads to the plain.

One leads through Phocian land, to Hacchus dear,

Where high Parnassus, by a gentle slope 280

The lowlands leaving, lifts his double peak

Into the heavens; and one leads off to where

Two oceans bathe the land of Sisyphus;

A third path, passing through Olenian fields,

Along a hollow valley's winding way,

Attains the vagrant waters and divides

The chilling current of the Elean stream. 285

'Twas here he journeyed, safe 'mid general peace,

When on a sudden, lo, a robber band

I 11 on him with the sword and slew him there.
[Tircsias is seen approaching.]

^ut in the nick of time, by Phoebus roused,

Tiresias, aged and with trembling limbs,

Hastes to our presence with what speed he may;

And, as his faithful comrade, Manto comes, 290

Her sightless father leading by the hand.

[Enter Tiresias, led by his daughter Manto.]
Oedipus: >^0 priest of heaven, thou next to Phoebus' self,

Explain the oracle which he hath sent,

And tell on whom the penalty is laid.
Tiresias: Because my tongue is slow and seeks delay,

Thou shouldst not wonder, great -souled Oedipus;

Oedipus

25

Much truth is bidden when the eye is dimmed. 295

But when my country, when Apollo calls,

I will obey. Then let me search the fates.

If in my veins still flowed the blood of youth,

I would myself sustain the god and speak.

Now to the altar drive a pure-white bull,

A heifer, too, upon whose tender neck 300

The curved yoke of toil hath never pressed.

And thou, my child, who guid'st my darkened steps,

Describe the omens which Apollo sends.
[The victims are stationed before the altar as directed.]
Man to: A perfect victim at the altar stands.
Tiresias: With prayer invoke the presence of the gods,

And heap the altar high with frankincense. 305

Manto: Lo, on the sacred fire the spice is heaped.
Tiresias: What of the flame ? Did it with vigor seize

The generous feast ?
Manto: With sudden gleam it leaped

Into the air, and quickly fell again.
Tiresias: And did the sacred fire burn bright and clear,

And point its gleaming summit straight to heaven, 310

AAnd, spreading outward, to the breeze unfold;

'Or crawl, with course uncertain, near the ground,

And, flickering, die away in gloomy smoke ?
Manto: Not one appearance only had the flame.

As when the tempest-bringing Iris spreads

Her varying colors on the vault of heaven, 315

And with her painted bow adorns the sky;

So to the sacred fire thou wouldst not tell

What hue is wanting there and what prevails.

Dark blue it flickered first, with yellow spots;

Then bloody red, and then it vanished quite. 320

But see! the flame is rent in rival parts,

And the glowing embers of one sacred pile

Are cleft in double heaps and fall apart!

O father, horror fills me as I gaze;

For, as I pour the sacred liquid forth,

It changes straight to blood — Oh, horrible! 325

And stifling smoke surrounds the royal head.

T ii r T B \ G r DIES 0 r S E \i « \

Manto:

riresias:
Manto:

riresias:

Manto:

Tircsias:

Manto:

And now in denser gloom it settles down
Upon his Eaos, and, with its veiling cloud,
It shuts ;l way from him the fading light.

Oh, s]H-ak, ami till us what it d<>th portend.

How can I Bpeak, who halting stand amazed

Amid conflicting voices of the soul?

What shall I say? Dire ills arc here, indeed,

Hut hidden yet in deepest mystery. 330

With signs well known the wrath of heaven is wont

To lx- made manifest: but what is that

Which now they would disclose, and then, again,

With changing and destructive purpose hide?

Some deed so vile, it shameth heaven to tell.

Hut quickly set the chosen victims here,

And sprinkle salted meal upon their heads. 335

With ]>caccful face do they endure the rites,

And hands outstretched to smite ?

His lofty head
The bull uplifted to the eastern sky,
Then shunned the light of day, and quickly turned
In terror from the newly risen sun.

With one blow, smitten, do they fall to earth ? 340

The heifer threw herself upon the steel,
And with one blow has fallen; but the bull,
Though smitten by a double deadly blow,
Distracted wanders here and there in pain,
And scarce can force his struggling life away.
Driven through a narrow- opening spurts the blood, 345

Or, sluggish, does it water deeper wounds ?
The blood of one, through that same welcome thrust,
Doth flow in generous streams; but of the bull,
Those yawning wounds are stained with scanty drops,
While, turning backward, through his eyes and mouth
The plenteous current flows. 350

These unblest rites
Some dreadful ills portend. But come, describe
The trusty markings of the viscera.
Oh, what is this ? For not, as is their wont,
With gentle motion do the entrails quake,

Oedipus 27

But, rather, strongly throb beneath the touch,

While from the veins the blood leaps forth anew. 355

The sickly heart is shriveled up and lies

Deep hidden in the breast; the veins appear

Of livid hue. The entrails suffer lack;

And from the wasting liver oozes slow

A stream of black corruption. Nay, behold

(A sign of dark foreboding to a king

Who holdeth single sway), two swelling points

Of equal elevation rise to view; 360

But both are lopped and covered with a veil.

Refusing lurking-place to things unseen,

The hostile side uprears itself with strength

And shows seven swelling veins; but these, again,

An intersecting line cuts straight across,

Preventing their return. The natural law 365

Ami order of the parts has been reversed,

And nothing lies within its proper place.

All on the right the blood-filled lungs appear,

Incapable of air; the heart no more

Is found upon the left, its 'customed place.

The fatty walls, with their soft covering,

No longer richly fold the entrails in. 370

The ways of nature are in all things changed;

The womb itself is most unnatural.

Look close, and see what impious thing is this:

Oh, monstrous! 'tis the unborn progeny

Of a heifer still unmated ! stranger still,

It lies not in the wonted place, assigned

By nature's laws, but fills its mother's side. 375

It moves its members with a feeble groan;

Its unformed limbs with trembling rigors twitch.

Black blood has stained tin- darkened entrails all;

The mangled bodies strive e'en yet to move,

Make show to rise, and menace with their horns

The priestly hands. The entrails shun the touch. 380

Nor is that lowing which has frightened thee

The deep-voiced roar of bulls, nor do the calls

Of frightened cattle sound upon our ears:

T li E T B A GEDZES OP S I \ E C A

It is tlir lowing of the altar fin s,

It is the brightened muttering of the shrine I

PUS: What meaning have these monstrous Bigns? Dei laic;

Ati<l with DO timid cars will I attend. 385

For he who has the dregs <>f fortune drained
Fears nothing more.
rtresias: The time will come to thee,

When these thy ills, for which thou sickest aid,
Will blessings stem.
Oedipus: But tell me then, I pray,

The one thing which the gods would have me know:

Whose hands are stained with murder of the king?

Wither the birds can summon up the name, 390

Who cleave the depths of heaven on fleeting wing,

Nor yet the vitals plucked from living breasts.

But we must seek it in another way:

The murdered king himself must be recalled

From realms of everlasting night, that thus,

Released from Erebus, he may declare

His murderer. The earth must be unsealed; 395

The pitiless divinity of Dis

Must be implored, and hither brought the shades

Who live beyond the Styx.

Now do thou tell

To whom thou giv'st the sacred embassy;

For 'tis not right for thee who hold'st the reins

Of government to seek the gloomy shades.
Oedipus: O Creon, thee this task demands, to whom,

As next in power, my kingdom looks for aid. 400

Tiresias: And while we loose the bars of deepest hell,

Do ye the praises of our Bacchus tell.

[Exeunt Creon, Tiresias, and Manto.]
The Chorus [in dithyrambic strain sings in praise oj Bacchus]: Bind
ye now your flowing locks with the swaying ivy,
Brandish aloft with your languishing arms the Nysaean thyrsus!

O glorious light of heaven, attend the prayers 405

Which noble Thebes, thy Thebes, O beautiful Bacchus,

With suppliant hands outstretched here offers thee.
Turn hither thy smiling virgin face,

Oedipus 29

Dispel the clouds with thy starry glance, 410

The gloomy threats of Erebus,
And ravenous fate.
Thee it becomes to crown thy locks with flowers of the
springtime,
V^Thee to bind thy head with the Tyrian fillet;
Or with the clinging ivy, gleaming with Ix-rries,

Softly to wreathe thy brow; 415

Now thy hair to unbind and spread in confusion,
Now in close-drawn knot to collect and confine ii ;
Just as when thou, fearing the wrath of Juno,
Didst conceal thyself in the guise of maidens.
Virgin, too, thou seemedst with golden ringlets, 420

Binding up thy robe with a saffron girdle.
So the softer graces of living please thee,
Robes ungirt and flowing in long profusion.
When in thy golden car thou wast drawn by lions,
Clad in flowing garments, the East beheld thee, 425

All the vast expanse of the Indian country,
They who drink the Ganges and cleave the surface
Of snowy Araxes.
Seated on humble beast the old Silenus attends thee,
Binding his throbbing brows with a waving garland of ivy; 430

While the wanton priests lead on the mysterious revels.
And then a troop of Bassarids
With dancing step conducted thee,
Now ranging o'er Pangaeus' foot,

And now on Thracian Pindus' top. 435

Soon, 'mid the noble dames of Thebes,
A furious Maenad, the comrade of Bacchus,
In garment of fawn-skin, conducted the god.
The Theban dames, by Bacchus excited,
With streaming locks and thyrsus uplifted 440

In high-waving hands, now join in the revels,
And wild in their madness they rend Pentheus

Limb from limb.
Their fury spent, with weary frame,
They look upon their impious deed,
And know it not.

_^o Tim Tragedies of Seneca

[no the Bea realms holds, the foster mother of Bacchus; 445

Round her the daught* ra of Nereus dance, Leucothoe' singing;
Over the mighty deep, though new to its waves, Palaemon,
Brother of Bacchus, rules, a mortal changed to a sea-god.
When in childhood a band of robbers assailing
Bore thee away in their flying vessel a captive,

eus quickly calmed the billowy ocean; 450

When I"! tn rolling meadows the dark sea changes;
II. re stands in vernal green the flourishing plane-tree,
There the groves of laurel dear to Apollo;
While resounds the chatter of birds in the branches.
\ w are the oars enwreathed with the living ivy,
While at the- masthead hang the clustering grape vines; 455
There on the prow loud roars a lion of Ida,
At the stern appears a terrible tiger of Ganges.
Filled with terror the pirates leap in the ocean.
Straight in their plunging forms new changes appear; 460

For first their arms are seen to shrink and fall,
Their bodies' length to shorten; and on their sides
The hands appear as fins; with curving back
They skim the waves, and, lashing their crescent tails,

They dash through the water. 465

Changed to a school of dolphins now, they follow the vessel.
Soon did the Lydian stream with its precious waters receive thee,
Pouring down its golden waves in a billowy current.
^Loosed was the vanquished bow and Scythian darts of the savage
Massagetan who mingles blood in his milky goblets. 470

The realm of Lycurgus, bearer of axes, submitted to Bacchus;
The land of the Dacians1 untamable felt his dominion,
The wandering tribes of the north by Boreas smitten,
And whom the Maeotis bathes with its frozen waters. 475

Where the Arcadian star looks down from the zenith,
Even there the power of Bacchus extended;
Conquered too the scattered Gelonian peoples.
From the warlike maidens their arms he wrested;
Down to the earth they fell in desperate conflict, 480

.The hardy bands of Amazonian maidens.
Xow, at last, their arrows swift are abandoned,

1 Reading, le DacOm.

Oedipus 31

And .M;una<ls have they become.

Holy Cithaeron too has streamed with slaughter,

Where was spilt the noble blood of Ophion. 485

(Proetus' daughters the forests sought; and Argus,

Juno at last consenting, paid homage to Bacchus.

The island of Naxos, girt by the broad At gean,

(lave to Bacchus the maid whom Theseus abandoned,

Compensating her loss by a better husband. 490

Out of the rock there gushed Nyctelian liquor;

Babbling streams at his word clove the grassy meadows;

Deep the earth drank in the nectarean juices;

Streams of snowy milk burst forth from the fountains, 495

Mingled with Lesbian wine all fragrant with spices.

Now is the bride to her place in the heavens conducted;
(Phoebus, with (lowing locks, sings a stately anthem;

Love, in honor of both, bears the wedding torches; 500

Jove lays down the deadly darts of his lightning,

Hating his bolts of flame at the coming of Bacchus.
While the gleaming stars in their boundless pasturage wander,
While the sea shall gird th' imprisoned earth with its waters, 505

While the full-orb'd moon shall gather her lost refulgence,
^While the morning star shall herald the coming of Phoebus,
While in the north the Bear shall fear the cerulean ocean,
Still shall we worship the shining face of the beautiful Bacchus.

\CT III
[Enter Creon, returned from the riles oj necromancy.]

Oedipus: Although thy face displays the marks of grief,

Declare whose death an angry heaven demands. 510

Creon: Thou bid'st me speak where fear would silence keep.
lipus: If Thebes, to ruin falling, move thee 1

Regard the scepter of thy kindred house.
Creon: Thou wilt repent the knowledge which thou seek'st.
Oedipus: A useless cure for ills is ignorance. 5'5

And wilt thou still obstruct the public weal ?
Creon: Where foul the cure, 'tis grievous to be cured.
Oedipus: Thy tidings speak; or, by thy pains subdued,

Thou soon shalt know what angered kings can do.
Creon: Kings hate the words whose speech they would compel. 520

The Tragedies of Seneca

Otdipus: In hadea shah thou pay thy life for all,
Unlrss thou till the Becreta <>f the fates.
■>t: Nay, Li me hold my peace. No smaller boon

Was ( \el sought.
Oedipus: More often than by Speech,

Have kingdoms by the boon of silence fall'n. 525

n: When silence is denied what can be given?

pus: He sins who silence holds when speech is Inst.
Creoni Then hear in peace the words which I must speak.
Oedipus: Was ever punishment for speech compelled?
Creon: Afar from Thebes there is a frowning grove 530

War the well watered vale of Dirce's fount.
And there a cypress lifts its giant head
And holds within its evergreen embrace
The trees around. Here stands an ancient oak
And spreads its branches dark with clustering mould.
One side is torn by time's destructive hand; 535

The rest, with roots decayed and falling, hangs
Supported on a neighbor's trunk. Here stand
The bitter laurel, rustling linden trees,
The myrtle, and the alder destined soon
To sweep its oarage on the boundless sea.
Midway, a mighty pine its smooth trunk lifts 540

Q Against the rays of Phoebus and the winds,
And with its heavy shade it overwhelms
The lesser trees; for, with its spreading boughs,
It stands, the giant guardian of the wood.
Beneath this pine there springs a gloomy pool 545

That never saw the sun nor light of day.
An oozy swamp surrounds the sluggish pool.
Here did the aged priest direct his steps;
Nor was there need to wait; the gloomy spot
Supplied the shades of night. A trench is dug,
Where brands are kindled, pluck'd from funeral pyres. 550
The priest is shrouded in a mourning pall,
And waves the bough; his dark robe sweeps the earth.
And now, in squalid garb and wrapped in gloom,
The priest advances, with his hoary locks 555

Encircled by the yew-tree's deadly leaves.

Oedipus 33

Black sheep and sable oxen, backward driven,1

Are sacrificed. The fire devours the food,

And the living entrails quiver in the flames.

The shades he calls, and him who rules the shades,

And him who guards the dark Lethaean stream. 560

A magic rune he mutters o'er and o'er

And fiercely chants the charm which either lures

The shifting ghosts, or forces them to come.

He burns the victims whole, and fills the trench

With sacrificial blood, and snowy milk, 565

And, with his left hand pouring, mingles wine;

Again he chants, and, bending to the earth,

With stronger words and frantic, summons up

The manes. Loudly bayed the hounds of hell;

And thrice the hollows gave a mournful sound; 570

The whole earth trembled and the solid ground

Was rent asunder. Then the priest exclaimed:

"I have prevailed, for strong the words I spoke;
The deep and gloomy realm of chaos yawns,
And for the dwellers in the home of Dis
A way is opened to the world of light."
The whole wood shrank away; its leaves erect
In horror stood, the mighty trunks were split, 575

And all the grove was smitten with amaze.
The frightened earth crouched back with hollow groans,
As if unwillingly she saw the deeps

^Of Acheron assailed; or else herself,
That back to life the dead might find a way,
With crashing sound her close-wrought barriers burst; 580

Or threefold Cerberus in angry rage
Clanked loud his heavy chains. Then suddenly
The earth yawned wide, and at our very feet
A deep abyss appeared. I saw, myself,
The sluggish pools amidst the dusky shades;
I saw the shadowy gods, and that black gloom
.No earthly night can give. At that dread sight

T My blood ran cold and froze within my wins. 585

And then there hurried forth a dreadful band,

1 Reading , retro.

T ll l T B IGEDIES OF S E N KC A

And Btood in armed array, thai viper brood,

The troop of brothers sprung from dragon's teeth;

And thai iVll pestilence, the curse of Thebes.

Then grim Erinys raised her piercing cry,

Blind Fury, Dread, and all the ghastly forms 590

Which spawn and lurk within the endless shades:

Grief, in her madness, tearing OUt her hair;

Disease, scarce holding up her weary head;

Age, burdened with itself, and brooding Fear.

Our spirits died within US at the sight. 595

Even the prophet's daughter stood amazed,

Though well she knew her father's mystic arts.

But he, undaunted, since he saw them not,

Convoked the bloodless throng of gloomy Dis.

Like clouds the shadowy forms come trooping up,

And snuff the air of unrestricted heaven.

Not lofty Eryx in his mountain glades 600

As many falling leaves, nor Hybla's slopes

As many flowers produce, in sunny spring,

When greedy bees in teeming bunches swarm;

As many waves break not upon the shore;

As many birds deserting Strymon's streams,

Exchange not wintry blasts and Arctic snows, 605

And seek the milder valley of the Nile;

As were the shades the prophet summoned forth.

In eager haste the shivering spirits seek

The hiding-places of the leafy grove.

From out the cave, his right hand by the horns 6to

A raging bull restraining, Zethus came,

And next Amphion, with that famous shell

Whose magic strains insensate rocks allured.

Here haughty Niobe, in safety now,

Amongst her children lifts her head in scorn

And proudly counts her shades. And worse than she, 615

That mother, mad Agave, next appears,

With all the impious band who rent the king.

Then Pentheus' self, all torn and bleeding, comes,

In rage pursuing those wild Bacchanals.

At length, when often summoned, Laius comes

Oedipus 35

In shame, and, skulking, tiers the shadowy throng, 620

And hides himself away; but still the seer,
With unrelenting purpose pressing on,
Repeats his strong compelling exorcisms,
Until he brings the ghost to open view.
I shudder as I tell it. There he stood,
A fearful sight, his body drenched with blood,
His matted locks o'erspread with horrid filth. 625

And now, with raging tongue, the specter spoke:
"O wild and savage house of Cadmus, thou
Who ever dost rejoice in brother's blood !
The thyrsus wave, in madness rend thy sons.
The greatest crime of Thebes is mother's love.
O fatherland, 'tis not the wrath of heaven, 630

But sin of man by which thou art undone.

No plague -fraught south wind with its deadly blast,

Nor yet the parched earth with its dry breath,

Is harming thee; but 'tis thy bloody king,

Who, as the prize of savage murder done,

Hath seized his father's scepter and his bed. 635

An impious son (but far more impious,

The mother who in most unhallowed womb

Bore children once again), he forced his way

Back to his source of life, and there begot

Upon his mother offspring horrible,

Got brothers to himself, a custom base,

Whence e'en the very beasts of prey are free. 640

Oh, base entanglement, more monstrous far

Than that fell Sphinx which he himself hath slain.

Thee, thee, who dost the bloody scepter hold,

Thee will thy sire, still unavenged, pursue,

With all thy town; and with me will I bring

Th' attendant fury of my wedding night —

I'll bring her with her loud-resounding' lash! 015

Thy house, polluted, will I overthrow,

And thy Penates will I trample down

In fratricidal strife! Then quickly drive

Thy king, () Thebes, from out thy boundaries I
' Reading. sonatUem.

3<5

T H l T RAGEDIES OF S E N EC A

For when his baleful step shall leave the land,

In vernal green shall it renew itself, 650

The air shall give again purr springs of life,

And to the woods their beautj shall return.

hot ruction, Pestilence and Death, Distress,

Disease, Despair — his fitting company —

Shall all depart with him. And he, indeed,

Will seek with eager haste to flee his realm,

But him will I hedge round with barriers, 655

And hold him back. Uncertain of his way,

And with his staff to guide his faltering steps,

He'll creep along his sad and darkened path.

Do ye the land deny him; I, his sire,

Will take away from him the light of heaven."
Oedipus: A chilling tremor penetrates my bones;

The very thing which I have feared to do, 660

They say that I have done it. But the charge

That in unholy wedlock I am joined,

My mother Merope refutes, for she

To Polybus, my sire, is wedded still ;

And my hands from stain of father's blood are clean,

Since Polybus in safety lives and reigns.

Since both my parents free me from the guilt

Of murder and that base, incestuous crime,

What room is there for accusation more ?

And as for Laius, Thebes his death deplored 665

Long 'ere I set my feet upon her soil.

What shall we say then ? Was the seer deceived,

Or does the hand of God afflict the state ?

No! now we see these two confederates

Deep in a crafty plot: that priest of thine

With lying tongue pretends the will of heaven,

And promises my sovereignty to thee. 670

Creon: Would I expel my sister from the throne ?

But if that sacred fealty which I owe

Unto my kindred house restrained me not,

Yet fortune would herself affright me sore,

For with care and danger is she ever fraught.

But be thyself content to lay aside,

Oedipus

37

Oedipus:

Crcon:

( )edipus:

Crcon:

Oedipus:

Creon:

Oedipus:

Creon:

( hdipus:

Creon:
Oedipus:

Creon:
Oedipus:

While still thou safely mayst, the cares of state, 675

Lest,1 borne too long, they may o'erwhelm thee quite.
In a humbler state more safely shalt thou dwell.
And dost thou bid me, then, of mine own will
To lay aside the heavy cares of state ?
Thus would I counsel those to whom the way
Is open yet to choose the path he will. 680

t^But the lot that fortune sends thee thou must bear.
\When one desires to reign, 'tis ever thus,
That humble life he praises, and the joys
Of ease and sleep are ever in his mouth.
A peaceful face oft hides a restless heart.
Does my long loyalty defend me not ? 685

To traitors, loyalty's a cloak to crime.
Free from the burdens of a kingly state,
I still enjoy the fruits of royalty;
My house is honored by our citizens;
And day by day thy royal gifts o'erflow,

And fill my kindred home with luxury. 600

Rich food and clothing, gifts of every sort,
And safety flow to many through my aid.
Why should I think aught lacking to my lot ?
Because there is a lack. Prosperity
Ne'er halts at any bounds.

And shall I fall, 695

Prejudged, and have no right to plead my cause ?
Hadst thou consideration for my life ?
Did old Tircsias listen to my cause ?
And yet I am condemned. My pattern, thou;
I do but follow in the way thou lead'st.
But what if I am guiltless ?

Kings arc wont
To fear alike the doubtful and the true.

Who quakes at empty fears, hath true in store. 700

Who in a fault is taken, and forgiven,
Is filkd with hate. Let all such dubious faith
Be far from me.

But thus is hatred bred.

1 Reading. >u\

|8

T II r T RAGEDIES OF S i \ i: C A

I tifus: ' N.iy, he who feareth hatred overmuch,

Knows not the :irt of ruling like a kin,<:;

I For 'tis by fear that kings are guarded most.
( - m: CWho holds the scepti r with tyrannic sway, 705

Doth live in fear of ilx.se who fear his power;
For terror ever doth return to him
Who doth inspire it.
tipus [to attendants]: Hence, away with him;

Deep in some rocky dungeon let him stay,
While I unto the palace take my way.
[Creon is led away by the attendants, while Oedipus retires into the palace]
rus: Not thou the cause of these our ills;

And not on thy acocunt hath fate

Attacked the house of Labdacus; 710

But 'tis the ancient wrath of heaven

That still pursues our race.

Castalia's grove once lent its shade
QlJntO the Tyrian wanderer,

And Dirce gave her cooling waves,

What time the great Agenor's son, 715

O'er all the earth the stolen prey

Of Jove pursuing, worn and spent,

Within these forests knelt him down

And adored the heavenly ravisher.

Then by Apollo's bidding led,

A wandering heifer following, 720

Upon whose neck the dragging plow,

Nor the plodding wagon's curving yoke

Had never rested, he his quest

At last gave over, and his race

From that ill-om ned heifer named.

From that time forth, the land of Thebes

Strange monsters hath engendered: first, 725

That serpent, sprung from the valley's depths,

1 lissing, o'crtopped the aged oaks

And lofty pines; and higher still,

Above Chaonia's woods, he reared

His gleaming head, though on the ground 730

His body lay in many coils.

And next the teeming earth produced

Oedipus 39

An impious brood of arm<5d men.
The battle call resounded loud
From the curving horn, and the piercing notes
Of the brazen trumpet shrill were heard.
Their new-created, nimble tongues, 735

And voices strange, they first employ
In hostile clamor; and the fields,
The plains, their kindred soil, they fill.
This monster brood, consorting well
With that dire seed from which they sprung,
Their life within a day's brief span 740

/ Enjoyed; for after Phoebus rose
They had their birth, but ere he set
They perished. At the dreadful sight
Great terror seized the wanderer;
And much he feared to face in war
His new-born foes. Until, at length

The savage youth in mutual strife 745

Fell down, and mother earth
Beheld her sons, but now produced,
Returned again to her embrace.
And Oh, that with their fall might end
All impious strife within the state!
May Thebes, the land of Hercules,
Such fratricidal strife behold
No more ! 750

Why sing Actaeon's fate,
Whose brow the new-sprung antlers crowned
Of the long-lived stag, and whom his hounds,
Though their hapless master still, pursued ?
In headlong haste through the mountains and woods,
He flees in fear, and with nimble feet 755

He scours the glades and rocky passes,
In fear of the wind-tossed feathers hung
Among the trees; but most he shuns
The snares which he himself has set;
Until at last in the still, smooth pool 760

He sees his horns and his features wild,
The pool where the goddess, too sternly chaste,
Had bathed her virgin limbs.

40

T H 1 T B IOED1 i: S OF SKNECA

pus:

ACT IV
My bou] is filled with ilark, foreboding fear;
For the gods in heaven and hades j>>in the charge 765

That by my guilty hand King Laiua fell.
And yet my soul, in conscious innocence,
And knowing better than the gods themselves

Its set nt deeds, denies tile charge.

But now,

.\!«>ng the shadowy vistas of the past,

My memory beholds an aged man who fell

Beneath the heavy stroke of my stout staff.

But first the elder strove with haughty words 770

To drive the younger traveler from the path.

But that was far from Thebes, in Phocis' realm,

Where the forked road in three directions leads.

But thou, my faithful wife, dispel my care:

What span of life had Laius at his death ?

Fell he in manhood's bloom, or spent with age ? 775

Midway 'twixt youth and age, but nearer age.

Did courtiers, thronging round, protect his course ?

The many lost him on the winding way;

A few by faithful toil kept near his side.

Did any fall as comrade of his fate ? 780

One comrade in his death did valor give.

Alas, I stand convicted, for the place

And number tally. Tell me now the time.

Since Laius fell, ten harvests have been reaped.
[Enter an old Corinthian man, a messenger from Merope.]
Old Man [to Oedipus]: The state of Corinth calls thee to the throne,

For Polybus has gained his lasting rest. 785

See how a heartless fate doth compass me !

But tell me how my father met his end.

In gentle sleep he breathed his life away.

My sire is dead, and not by violence!

I call the gods to witness that to heaven

I now in piety may lift my hands, 790

And fear no stain of impious slaughter more.

And yet a still more fearful fate remains.
Old Man: Thy father's kingdom will dispel thy fears.

J ocas til :

Oedipus:

Jocasta:

Oedipus:

Jocasta:

Oedipus:

Jocasta:

Oedipus:

Old Man:
Oedipus:

Oedipus 41

Oedipus: My father's kingdom would I seek, but still

I fear ray mother.
Old Man: Fear'st thou her who waits 795

With anxious heart, imploring thy return ?
Oedipus: 'Tis piety itself that bids me flee.
Old Man: And wouldst thou leave her in her widowhood ?
Oedipus: Thou speak'st the very essence of my fears.
Old Man: Speak out the fear that doth oppress thy soul;

For 'tis my wont in trusty confidence

To counsel kings.
Oedipus: Q^ By Phoebus' word forewarned, 800

From wedlock with my mother do I flee.
Old Man: Then cease thy empty fears, and lay aside

Thy base forebodings; for I tell thee here

That thou art not the son of Merope.
Oedipus: Why did she wish to rear a spurious son?
Old Man: Because the proud security of kings

Is by a son established.
Oedipus: Tell me now 805

How thou dost know the secrets of the court.
Old Man: With my own hands I gave thee to the king.
Oedipus: Thou gavest me ? But who gave me to thee ?
Old Man: A shepherd on Cithaeron's snowy slopes.
Oedipus: How earnest thou within that sacred wood ?
Old Man: My sheep upon that mountain did I seek. 810

Oedipus: Now on my body name some well-known mark.
Old Man: Behold, thy feet in infancy were pierced,

And from thy swollen ankles art thou named.
Oedipus: Who was the man who gave me as a gift

Into thy hands ?
Old Man: He fed the royal flocks, 815

And under him the hireling shepherds served.
Oedipus: But tell his name.
Old Man: An old man's memory

Grows faint and weakly falters with disuse.
Oedipus: But wouldst thou know the features of the man?
Old Man: I might recall him, for a slender clue 820

Ofttimes awakens memory of things

Long buried and forgot.

J-

The Tragedies of Seneca

Oedipus: Then hasten, slaves,

Lei all the master-shepherds drive their flocks

Before the altar here, yea, summon all

< >n whom depends the guidance of the flocks.

()/(/ Man: Or chance or providence has kept thy fate

In darkness hid. What long hath lain concealed,
I hid thee suffer to remain in doubt.
For often truth, when brought into the light,
Becomes the bane of him who seeks for her.

Oedipus: Can any ills be worse than those I fear ?

()/</ Man: Oh, be thou sure the truth is big with fate,

Whose meaning must be sought with toil and pain.
The public weal calls there, and here thine own,
And both with equal voice. Direct thy steps
Along a middle course! provoke not fate;
Permit thy fortune to unfold itself.
It profits naught to change a happy state.

Oedipus: A change is well when all is at the worst.

Old Man: What better canst thou ask than royal birth ?
No further seek, lest thou thy sire repent.

Oedipus: Though I should prove to be of shameful blood,
My purpose still is fixed to know the truth.
[Enter Phorbas, the head-shepherd.]
But see, the agdd man, old Phorbas, comes,
'Neath whose control the royal flocks are kept.
Dost thou remember still his face or name ?

Old Man: His form eludes my mind; not fully known,
And yet again not all unknown his face.

[To Phorbas.]
Old man, while Laius still was king, didst thou,
His shepherd, ever drive the royal flocks
To pasture here upon Cithaeron's slopes ?

Phorbas: On fair Cithaeron's sunny slopes my flocks
Have ever found the greenest pasturage.

Old Man: Dost thou know me ?

Phorbas: But dim and indistinct

My memory.

Oedipus: Didst thou at any time

An infant boy deliver to this man ?

[Phorbas jailers and turns pale.]

825

830

835

840

845

Oedipus

43

Phorbas:
Oedipus:
Phorbas:

Old Man:

Oedipus:
Phorbas:

Old Man:

Phorbas:
Oedipus:
Phorbas:

Oedipus:

Phorbas:
Oedipus:

Come then, speak out ! why dost thou hesitate ?

And why does pallor overspread thy cheeks ?

Why seek for words ? The truth no respite needs. 850

Thou speak'st of things long buried and forgot.

But speak, or pain shall drive thee to confess.

I gave a boy to him, a useless gift;

He never could have lived or known the light.

The gods forbid! The child is living still; 855

And may his life be long on earth, I pray.

Why dost thou think the child did not survive ?

A slender rod of iron his ankles pierced,

And bound his limbs. This wound produced a sore,

Which by contagion spread o'er all his frame.

Why question more ? The fatal truth draws near. 860

Who was that infant boy?

My lips are sealed.
Bring hither fire! Its flames shall loose thy speech.
Must truth be sought along such cruel paths ?
I pray thy grace.

If I seem harsh to thee,
Or headstrong, thy revenge is in thy hand — 865

The truth revealed. Then speak: who was the child?
Of what sire gotten ? Of what mother born ?
He was the son 0} her who is thy — wife.
Then yawn, O earth ! and thou, O king of shades,
Into the lowest depths of hades hurl

This vile confounder of the son and sire ! 870

Ye citizens, on my incestuous head
Heap crushing rocks! with weapons slaughter me I
Let husbands, fathers, sons, and brothers — all
Whose name I have defiled, against me arm !
And let the poor, plague-smitten populace
Hurl blazing brands from off their funeral pyres!
The plague spot of the age, I wander here, 875

Heaven-cursed pollutor of all sacred ties;
Who, in the day when first I breathed the air,
Was doomed to death.

[To himself.]

Call up thy courage now,
And dare some deed befitting these thy crimes.

f

44 T n e T r a g e D I i: s or Seneca

Haste to thy palace and congratulate >s^'

Thy mother's house increased by children's sons.
[Exit.]
Chorus: If it were mine to choose my fate

And fashion as 1 would,
(J I'd trim my sails to the gentle breeze,
> Lest, by the raging blasts o'erwhelmed, 885

My spars should broken be.
May soft and gently blowing winds

My dauntless bark lead on;
And ever on the middle course,
Where safely runs the path of life, 890

May I be traveling.
Fearing the Cretan king, 'tis said,
And trusting in strange arts,
Young Icarus essayed the stars,
And strove to conquer birds in flight, 895

On false wings balancing.
He fell into the raging sea

And his name alone survived.
But, wiser far, old Daedalus 900

A safer course midst the clouds pursued,

Awaiting his winged son.
As the timid bird flees the threat'ning hawk,

And collects her scattered young; 905

So the father watched till he saw his son
Plying his hands in the gulfing sea,
Enmeshed in his useless wings.
So does he stand in treacherous ways,
Whoever goes beyond the bounds

Ordained by nature's law. 910

[Enter Messenger from within the palace.}
But what is this? The palace gates resound;
Behold, it is the royal messenger.
With wild and woeful mien he seems to come.
Speak out, and tell us what the news thou bring'st.

ACT V

Messenger: When Oedipus his impious race perceived, 915

And saw the warning fates had been fulfilled;

Oedipus 45

When on a hideous charge he stood condemned;

Then, with a deadly purpose in his breast,

Did he approach his palace, and in haste

Beneath those hated battlements he went.

And as a lion rages o'er the sands,
I And, threat'ning, tosses back his tawny mane; 920

So Oedipus advanced with blazing eyes,

And stern, mad face, while hollow groans burst forth,

And from his limbs there dripped a chilling sweat.

He foams and vents a stream of threat'ning words,

And from his heart his mighty grief o'erflows.

He in his madness seeks against himself 925

Some heavy penalty and like his fate.
"Why do I wait for punishment?" he cries;
"Let my guilty heart with hostile sword be pierced,

Or overwhelmed with flames or crushing rocks!

Oh, for a tiger or some bird of prey,

To rend my tender flesh! Do thou thyself,

Who hast beheld full many deeds of blood, 930

O cursed Cithaeron, from thy forests send

Thy wild beasts 'gainst me or thy greedy dogs.

Oh, that Agave were returned to earth !

But thou, my soul, why dost thou shrink from death ?

For death alone can make thee innocent."

So spake he, and his impious hand he laid 935

Upon the hilt and drew his glittering sword.
"And dost thou, then, with this brief punishment

Expect to pay thy mighty debt of guilt,

And with one blow wilt balance all thy sins ?

Thy death would satisfy thy murdered sire;

But what to appease thy mother wilt thou do,

And those thy children, shamefully bc£<>t ?

What recompense canst make unto thy land, 940

Which for thy sin is smit with pestilence ?

Such debts as these thou canst nut pay by death.

Let Nature, who, in Oedipus alone,

Strange births devising, hath her laws o'erturned,

Subvert herself again to punish him.

Let it be mine, in never-ending round, 945

To live and die, and to be born again,

|f> The Tragedies of S i::n k c a

That for my crimes l>y never-ending pain

1 may atone. Now use thy wit, poor soul.

Since by repeated death thou canst not die,

Choose iln n .sunn- form of lingering death in lift-,

Some way by which, not numbered with the dead,

\ or yet the living, thou mayst linger on. 950

So die, that in thy death thou mayst remain

Without the laud wherein thy father dwells.

0 soul, why dost thou hesitate?" And then
A sudden stream of tears o'erspread his face,
And wet his cheeks. "And can my tears suffice ?

Too long my eyes these useless showers have poured; 955

Nay, let them follow where the tears have flowed,

From out their sockets driven. O gods of wedlock,

Is this enough ? These eyes must be removed."

He spoke with frenzied rage; and all the while

His cheeks were flaming with a dangerous light,

And his starting eyeballs strained to leave their seats.

His face was full of passion, fierce resolve. 960

Groaning he thrust his hands into his eyes;

And those fierce eyes stood forth to meet his hands,

And eager followed of their own accord

Their kindred hands, as courting that deep wound.

Deep in with hooked fingers he explores, 965

And rends his eyeballs from their deepest roots.

Still stays his hands within those empty seats,

And tears the hollow sockets with his nails,

With savage joy, with vain and endless rage; 970

So great1 his fear and hatred of the light.

He lifts his head, and with those empty eyes

The heavens surveying, tests his darkened sight.

Whatever from his mangled eyes still hangs,

i le tears away, and now in triumph cries

To all the gods: "Oh, spare my country now, 975

1 pray; for I have done what must be done,
And I have paid the penalty I owed.

Now have I found at last a fitting night

To match my impious wedlock." As he speaks,

His face is watered by a hideous shower,

1 Reading, taut urn.

Oedipus

47

As the blood flows streaming from his ruptuiv<l veins.
Chorus: By fate we're driven; then yield to fate. 980

No anxious, brooding care can change

The thread of destiny that falls

From that grim spindle of the Fates.

"Whate'er we mortals suffer hen',

Whate'er we do, all hath its birth

In that deep realm of mystery.

Stern Lachesis her distaff whirls, 985

Spinning the threads of mortal men,

But with no backward-turning hand.

All things in ordered pathways go;

And on ournatal day was fixed

Our day of death. Not God himself

Can change the current of our lives,

Which bears its own compelling force 990

Within itself. Each life, goes on

In order fixed and absolute,

Unmoved by prayer. Nay fear itself

Has been by many found a bane;

For, while they sought to shun their fate,

They came upon it in their flight.
But now the palace gates resound, and see, 995

The sightless king himself, with none to guide,
Takes hitherward his blind and groping way.
[Enter Oedipus.]
Oedipus: Now all is well and finished; to my sire

I've paid the debt I owed. How sweet these shades!
What god, at length appeased, hath wrapped my head
In a pall of darkness, and my crimes forgiven ? 1000

Now have I 'scaped the conscious eye of day;
And nothing dost thou owe, O parricide,
To thine avenging hand. Thy sight is gone,
And such a countenance becomes thee well.
[Enter Jocasta.]
Chorus: See where with hurried step Jocasta comes,

Beside herself and overcome with grief; 1005

As when in maddened rage that Theban dame

Her son's head tore away and realized

What she had done. She wavers, longs to S]*ak

48

The T r a g e'd'i k s of Seneca

To that afflicted one, and Gears to Bpeak.

Now shame at last has yielded t<> her K^'f,

And with a Faltering tongue she speaks to him.
Jocasta: What shall I call (hoc? Son? Dost shun that name?

Thou art my son; thy shame confesscth it. 1010

And yet, O son, though all unwilling, speak.

Why dost thou turn away thy sightless face?
ipits: Who now forbids me to enjoy my night?

Who gives me back mine eyes? My mother's voice!

Oh, awful sound ! Now is my labor vain.

Stay where thou art ! Each step is impious.

Let boundless seas our guilty souls divide, 1015

And lands remote; and if beneath this land

Some other hangs, beholding other stars,

May that far country one of us receive.
Jocasta: What thou deplorest is the fault of fate.

A fated crime can leave no stain of sin.
Oedipus: Now cease thy words, O mother, spare my ears, 1020

By these poor remnants of my mangled form,

By that unhallowed offspring of my blood,

And all that in the double names we bear

Is right and wrong!
Jocasta [to herself]: Why art thou listless now,

O soul of mine ? Since thou hast shared his guilt,

Why hesitate to share his punishment ? 1025

The beauty of all human intercourse

Has fallen into ruin for thy sake,

Confused and lost, O wretch incestuous.

Not if the father of the gods himself

Should hurl at me his glittering thunderbolts,

Could I for my foul crimes atonement make, 1030

Since I the name of mother have profaned.

Now death is welcome, but the way of death

Must I consider.

[To Oedipus.]
Come, thou parricide,

And lift thy hand against thy mother too.

This act is wanting to complete thy work.
[To herself.]

Now let the sword be drawn. By this good blade

Oedipus 49

Co

Was Laius, my husband, slain — not so; 1035

My husband's father, by his rightful name!

Shall I this weapon plunge into my breast,

Or thrust it deep within my waiting neck ?

Nay, nay: thou know'st not how to choose a place.

Strike here, O hand, through this capacious womb,

Which (horrible !) the son and husband bore.
[She slabs herself and falls dead.]
Chorus: She lies in death, her failing hand relaxed; 1040

And spouting streams of blood drive out the sword.
Oedipus: O fate-revealer, thee do I upbraid,

Thou god and guardian of the oracles.

My father only was I doomed to slay;

But now, twice parricide and past my fears,

Have I been guilty, and my mother slain.

JFor 'tis by sin of mine that she is dead. 1045

O lying Phoebus, now have I outdone

The impious fates.

With apprehensive feet

Let me go out upon my darkened way,

Planting my footsteps with a faltering tread,

And through the darkness grope with trembling hands.

Stay not thy flight, speed thy uncertain steps — 1050

But hold! lest on thy mother's corse thou tread.

0 Thebans, weak and smitten sore with ills,
Whose hearts are fainting in your breats, behold,

1 flee, I go: lift up your drooping heads.
A milder sky and sweeter air shall come

When I am gone. Whoever still retains 1055

His feeble life may now inhale the air
In deep, life-giving draughts. Go, lend your aid
To those who were to certain death resigned;
For with me in my exile do I bear
All pestilential humors of the land.
Then come, ye blasting Fates and mad Despair,
Thou deadly Pestilence, come, come with me; 1060

With such a company 'tis sweet to flee !

[Exit.]

PHOENISSAE, or THEBAIS
A FRAGMENT

Oedipus
Antigone
Jocasta .
Polyniccs )
Eteocles [
Messenger

PHOENISSAE, or THEBAIS

A FRAGMENT

DRAMATIS PERSONAE

Late king of Thebes.

Daughter of Oedipus, constant to him in his misfortunes.

Wife and mother of Oedipus.

Sons of Oedipus and rivals for the throne.

The scene is laid, first in the wild country to which Oedipus, accom-
pinied by Antigone, has betaken himself; then in Thebes, and lastly in
the plain before Thebes.

The time is three years after the great tragedy of Oedipus.

The stroke of fate, that has been threatening Oedipus since long bejorc
his birth, has fallen at last, and he has clone the thing he feared to do. And
now, selj -blinded and self -exiled from his land, he has for three years wandered
in rough and trackless places, attended by Antigone, his daughter, who, alone
of all his friends, has condoned his fated sins and remained attached to him.

Meanwhile his sons, though they agreed to reign alternate years, are
soon to meet in deadly strife; for Etcoclcs, although his year of royal power
is at an end, refuses to give up the throne; and now Polynices, who has in
exile wed the daughter of Adrastus, king oj Argos, is marching against- the
gaks of Thebes, with seven great armies, to enforce his rights.

[By a different version from the "Oedipus," Jocasta did not slay herself at
once as in thai tale, but still is living on in grief and shame, and strives to
reconcile her sons.]

ACT I

Ipus [to Antigone, who has followed him into exile]: O thou,
who guid'st thy blinded father's steps,
Sole comfort of my weary heart, my child,
Begotten at such heavy cost to me,
Leave thou the unpropitious way I tread.
Why shouldst thou seek to lead my feet aright
Which fain would wander? Let me stumble on. 5

Far better shall I find my way, alone,
The path that from the miseries of life
Shall take me, and the face of heaven and earth
Free from the sight of this ill-omened head.

0 hand of mine, how little hast thou done !
For, though I do not see the light of day
Which looked upon my crime, still am I seen.

Unclasp thy clinging hand from mine; permit 10

My sightless feet to wander where they will.

1 go, I go where my Cithaeron lifts

I lis rugged crags on high; where to his dogs

(Actaeon, speeding through the rocky ways,

Became a booty strange and pitiful;

Where through the dim old woods and dusky glades, 15

By Bacchic frenzy fired, the mother wild

Her sisters led, rejoicing in the crime,

When on the waving thyrsus' point she bore

The gory head of Pentheus; where the bull

< )t Zethus rushed along, the mangled corpse

Of Dirce dragging (through the thorny briars 20

The mad beast's flight was traceable in blood);
jOr where the cliff of Ino lifts its head
I High o'er the heaving sea, into whose <lcpths

The mother leaped, fleeing an unknown crime,
JYet daring other crime, by terror driven

To sink her son with her beneath the waves. 25

( >h, happy they whose better fortune gave

Mothers like these ! There is another place

55

56 T II i: T B A G B D I E S 0 V S E N E C A

Within these woods my place, which calls to me,
To which I fain would haste; my eager feel

Will not delay, and thither will I go,

Unguided, all alone. Why hesitate 30

To seek the place thai most belongs to me?

Give hack that death, Cithaeron, give again

That spot where once I lay upon thy breast,

That, where I should in infancy have died,

In age I may expire. Now let me pay

The debt I long have owed. O mountain, fell

And bloody, cruel, savage in thy rage,

Both when thou spar'st and when thou dost destroy, 35

This body long ago was given to thee:

Obey my father's and my mother's will.

My soul is eager to receive at last

Its punishment. Why, daughter, why dost thou

With baleful love restrain me ? Hold me not.

My father calls, and I will follow, yea,

Will follow him. Then cease to hold me back. 40

See where the royal Laius comes in rage,

The blood-stained scepter of his ravished realm

Within his grasp. See, with his angry hands

He seeks to tear again my empty eyes.

0 daughter, dost thou see my father, too ?

1 surely see him.

[To himself:] Now, O coward soul,
Brave but to mar a helpless part of thee, 45

At length spew out that hateful life of thine.
Delay no more upon thy punishment,
And give thyself entirely unto death.
Why do I, sluggish, linger on in life ?
There is no further crime that I can do.
Oh, my foreboding, wretched soul, there is!

[To Antigone. J
Flee from thy father, flee, while still a maid;
My mother's fate makes me of all afraid. 50

Antigone: No power, my father, shall unloose my hold
Of thee; no one shall force me from thy side.
The illustrious, rich house of Labdacus,

Phoenissae 57

f

Let my two brothers seek with strife to gain:
The greatest part of all my father's realm 55

Is mine — my father's self. Nor shall this share
Be reft away from me by him who holds
By stolen right the scepter over Thebes,
Nor by that other brother who leads on
Against his native land th' Argolic hosts;
Though Jove himself should thunder out of heaven,
And hurl his bolt against my clinging hands, 60

I would not let thee go. Though thou forbid,
I'll guide thee, O my father, 'gainst thy will,
And thy reluctant feet will I direct.
Seek'st thou the level plain ? There will I go.
The rugged mountain heights ? I'll not oppose,
But will precede thy way. Use me as guide
Wherever thou wouldst go; since for us both 65

Is every path selected that thou tread'st.
With me, but not without me, canst thou die.
\There springs a lofty cliff, precipitous,
(And looks far out upon the sea below:
Shall we seek this ? There hangs a naked rock,
There yawns the riven earth with gaping jaws: 70

Wouldst thou to these ? And there a mountain stream
In roaring torrent falls, and 'neath its waves
Worn fragments of the mountain roll along:
Shall we rush headlong in ? Where thou wouldst go,
I go, but always first. I'll not oppose
Nor urge. Dost thou desire to be destroyed ?
(^ Is death thy highest wish ? If thou dost die, 75

I go before thee; if thou liv'st, I follow.
But change thy mind, call up thine old-time strength,
And with a mighty will thy sorrows curb.
Resist, since in such ills defeat is death.
Oedipus: Whence springs so rare a spirit in a house 80

So impious? Whence comes this noble maid,
Unlike her race ? Can it be true indeed ?
Has any pious thing been born of me ?
Ne'er would it be, for well I know my fates,
Except for harmful ends. Nature herself

The Tragedies o f S i n e c a

Has changed her laws: now shall the stream, reversed, 85

Bear back its whirling waters to their source;
The torch of Phoebus shall bring in the eight,
And day be heralded by Hesperus;
And, that I may but add unto my woe,
I, too, shall pious be. Not to be saved —
This is for Oedipus the only cure.

Let me avenge my father, unavenged 90

Till now. My hand, why dost thou hesitate
To exact the penalty I owe to him?
Whatever I have suffered hitherto
Was for my mother's sake. Release my hand,
Undaunted girl; thou but delay'st my death,
And thy living father's funeral prolong'st. 95

Let earth conceal at last this hated form.
Thou wrongest me, though with a kind intent,
And deem'st it piety to keep thy sire
From burial. But they are one in guilt,
Both he who forces death upon a man
Who fain would live, and he who holds him back
Who longs to die. And yet they are not one;
For surely is the last the worser sin. 100

To be condemned to death were better far
For me than to be saved from death. Then cease,
My child, from this attempt. I have reserved
For my own will the right to live or die.
Right gladly did I yield the sovereignty
/O'er all my realm; yet o'er myself alone
1 1 still am king. If thou in very truth 105

Art loyal to me, give me back my sword,
That sword already with my father's blood
Defiled. Wilt give it back ? Or do my sons
Retain my sword together with my throne ?
'Tis well. Wherever there is need of crime,
There let it be; I gladly give it up.
Let both my sons possess the sword. But thou,
Flames, rather, and a heap of wood prepare; no

Then will I fling myself upon the pyre,
Cling in its hot embrace, and hide myself

Phoenissae 59

Within its deadly hold. There will I loose

I This stubborn soul, and give to mortal dust
Whatever lives in me. Where is the sea ?
Come, lead me where some beetling crag juts out, 115

Or where Ismcnus rolls his savage waves;
^Or thither would I go and end my life,
Where once upon a jutting rock abode

The hybrid Sphinx and wove her crafty speech. 120

Direct me thither, set thy father there.
Let not that dreadful seat be empty long,
But place me there, a greater monster still.
There will I sit and of my fate propose
A riddle dark which no man will resolve.
Come listen, ye, who plow the Theban fields;
Whoever worships in the sacred grove 125

Of Cadmus, for the deadly serpent famed,
Where hallowed Dirce lies; whoever drinks
Eurotas' stream; ye who in Sparta dwell,
Illustrious for its heavenly brothers twain;
And ye who reap Boeotia's fertile fields,

The plains of Elis and Parnassus' slopes: 130

What riddle like to this could she propose,
That curse of Thebes, who wove destructive words
In puzzling measures? What so dark as this?
He was his grandsire's son-in-law, and yet
His father's rival; brother 0} his sons, 135

And father of his brothers; at one birth
The granddame bore unto her husband sons,
And grandson's to herself. Who can unwind
A tangle such as this? E'en I myself,
Who bore the spoils of triumph o'er the Sphinx,
Stand mute before the riddle of my fate.

[Has a speech of Antigone dropped out at this point, or does < )edipus
hark back to a previous thought after a dramatic pa;:

But why waste further words ? Why dost thou try 140

To soften my determined heart with pray.

My will is fixed to pour this spirit forth

Which now for long has struggled sore with death,

60 The Tragedies of Seneca

And Beek the world of shades; fox blackest night

Is still not black enough for tliis my crime.

' lis sweet in deepest Tartarus i<> hide;

Or, if there yet is deeper pit than this, 145

There would I go. 'Tis well to <lo at last

The thing which long ago should have been done.

I cannot lx' prevented from my death.

Wilt take away my sword? Wilt bar all paths

That lead unto the fatal precipice?

Wilt keep my neck tree from the choking noose?

Remove all poisonous herbs from me? Yet what, 150

Think'st thou, will all that care of thine avail ?
I For death is everywhere. A kindly God

Hath this great law with wisest care ordained:

That anyone can take man's life away,
\ But none can stay his death; for countless ways
I Are open unto him who seeks to die.

I ask no aid of thine. Well am I used

To employ this naked hand. Then come, my hand, 155

With all thy force, with all thy passion, come.

And not one wound alone would I endure,

For I have sinned in every part of me.

Come, strike the mortal blow where'er thou will:

Break through my breast and tear my heart away,

So full of sin; lay bear my vitals all; 160

Rain blows upon my neck until it break,

Or let thy gouging fingers tear my veins

Until they flow with blood. Or, if thou wilt,

Direct thine anger whither thou art wont:

These healing wounds reopen; let them flow

With streams of blood and loathsome gore again;

And through this passage drag my life away,

So stubborn in defeat, so hard to storm. 165

And thou, O father, wheresoe'er thou art,

Who stand'st as judge upon my just deserts,

I ne'er have thought that such a crime as mine

Could ever be sufficiently atoned,

Nor has this living death contented me;

I have not bought my pardon with my eyes,

P H O E N l"s S a'e 6l

But fain would perish for thee, limit by limb. 170

Exact at last the penalty I owe.

Now I atone; then I but sacrificed

Unto thy manes. Re thou here to aid,

And my reluctant hand help me to plunge

Deep down and deeper in my sightless eyes.

A scant and timid offering I made,

When first I plucked my eager eyeballs out. 1 75

And even now my trembling spirit halts,

Yea, halts, though downward to my shrinking hands

My face inclines. Now shalt thou hear the truth,

0 Oedipus: less boldly than thou plan'dst

Did'st thou pluck out thine eyes. Let now thy brain 180

*Feel those avenging fingers; through this door
(Complete the death which has begun in me.
Antigone: O father, great of soul, I pray thee hear

With quiet mind thy wretched daughter's words:

1 do not seek to lead thee back again
Into the presence of thy former home,

Nor to the illustrious splendor of thy realm; 185

I ask thee not with calm and peaceful soul

To bear again that fearful shock of woe

Which even yet the soothing hand of time

Has not assuaged. And yet it is not meet

That one so stout of heart should be o'ercome

And to misfortune weakly turn his back.

It is not valor, father, as thou think'st, 190

To shrink from life; but 'gainst the mightiest ills

To stand opposed, and not to flinch or budge,

That is the truest test of manly worth.

Who tramples under foot his destiny,

Who disregards and scorns the goods of life,

And aggravates the evils of his lot, 195

Who has no further need of Providence:

Wherefore should such a man desire to die,

Or seek for death ? Each is the coward's act.

No one holds death in scorn who seeks to die.

The man whose evils can no farther go

Is safely lodged. Who of the gods, think'st thou, 200

6a The Tragedies of Seneca

Grant that he wills it BO, ran add one jot
Unto thy sum of trouble? Nor canst thou,
Saw- that thou deem'st thyself unfit to live.
But thou art not unfit, for in thy breast
No taint of sin has come. And all the more,
My father, art thou free from taint of sin,
Because, though heaven willed it otherwise, 205

Thou still art innocent. What is there now
Which has so maddened thee, which goads thy heart
) To fresh outbursts of grief ? What forces thee
To seek the abodes of hell, and fly from these ?
Is't that thou wouldst avoid the light of day ?
Thou dost avoid the light. Or wouldst thou flee
This noble palace and thy native land ?
Thy native land, although thou livest still,
Is dead to thee. Wouldst from thy sons escape, 210

And from thy mother? From the sight of all
Has fate removed thee; and whatever death
From any man can take, thy life has taken.
Art weary of the kingdom's press and stir?
At thy command thy former courtier throng
Has vanished. — Whom, O father, dost thou flee? 215

Oedipus: Myself I flee, I flee this heart of mine,

Full of all crimes; I flee this hand, this sky,

These gods; I flee those dreadful sins which I,

Though innocent, have done. And can it be

That this fair world, whence bounteous harvests spring,

Is trod by such as I ? This wholesome air

Do I with pestilential lips inhale, 220

With water quench my thirst, or any gift

Of kindly earth enjoy? And do I dare,

This impious, incestuous, cursed wretch,

To touch thy maiden hand ? Have I still ears

To hear the name of parent or of son? 225

Oh, that with rending hands I might destroy

These narrow ways of sound by which I hear

The words of men. My child, all sense of thee,

Who art a parcel of my impious deeds,

In my unhappiness I would have fled. 230

Phoenissae 63

But now my crime sticks fast within my heart,

And threatens ever to break out afresh;

For what my blinded eyes have spared to me,

Is through my ears poured in upon my soul.

Oh, why do I not plunge this darkened life

Into the eternal shadow-world of Dis?

Why do I longer hold my spirit here ? 235

Why be a burden to the upper world,

And wander still among the living men ?

What evil yet remains ? My fatherland,

My parents, children, valor — all are lost,

And that illustrious glory of the mind;

Yea, evil chance hath stripped me of my all.

Tears yet remained, but these with my own hand 240

Have I destroyed. Then go thy ways, my child.

My soul will not give ear to any prayers,

And only seeks new punishment for crime,

And equal to my sin — if that can be.

While yet an infant was I doomed to death.

What mortal ever drew so hard a fate ?

Ere I had seen the light, while still confined 245

Within the darksome prison of the womb,

I was a thing of dread. The night of death

Lays hold on many at the hour of birth,

And snatches them away from dawning life;

But death anticipated birth in me.

Some are o'ertaken by untimely fate

While still within the womb, yet without sin. 250

But I, yet hid within the hold of life,

While yet my very being was in doubt,

Was by the heavenly oracle compelled

To answer to a charge unspeakable.

My sire condemned me at Apollo's word,

And through my tender ankles thrust a rod

Still glowing from the forge; then sent his child

Into the forest deep, a prey for beasts 255

And all the savage birds Cithaeron breeds,

Accustomed to be stained with royal blood.

64 The Tragi: dies of Seneca

Yc t him, whom God condemned, who by his sire

Was cast away to die, death also fled

And Delphi's oracle have 1 fulfilled:

For I with impious hand assailed my sire, 260

And slew him.

\\Yith bitter irony] Vet, for this impiety,

Perchance another act of piety

Will make amends: I killed my father; true,

But still I loved my mother. — Oh, 'tis shame

To mention such a wedlock; yet I will,

And force myself to bear this punishment,

To tell abroad my more than bestial crime,

So strange, that nations stand in dumb amaze, 265

So shameful, that no age will credit it,

That e'en the shameless parricide is shocked:

Jnto my father's bed I bore my hands

Smeared with my father's blood, and there received

The wages of my crime — a greater crime.

My father's murder was a trivial thing; 270

But, that my sum of crime might be complete,

My mother, to my marriage chamber led,

Conceived — Oh, how could nature e'er endure

A greater crime ? And yet, if aught remains,

I have begotten children vile enough

To do this also. I have cast away

The scepter which I won by parricide, 275

And with it other hands are armed for war.

Full well do I my kingdom's fortune know,

That never more shall any gain the throne

Without the sacrifice of kindred blood.

Dire evils doth my father-soul presage,

For even now are sown the baleful seeds

Of future strife; the plighted pact is spurned; 280

One will not yield the throne he hath usurped,

The other claims his right, calls on the gods

To witness of his bond, and, driven from home,

Moves Argos and the towns of Greece to arms.

No light destruction comes to weary Thebes;

Phoenissae

65

For weapons, flames, and wounds press hard on her, 285

And greater woes than these, if such there be,
That all may know I have begotten sons.

Antigone: If thou no other cause for living hast,
My father, this one reason is enough,
That thou as father mayst restrain thy sons
From deadly strife. Thou only canst avert 290

Their threats of impious war, curb their mad hearts,
Give peace to citizens, to country rest,
And to their broken treaty honest faith.
To many men art thou refusing life,
If for thyself thou dost refuse to live.

Oedipus: Think'st thou that such as they have aught of love 295

For father or for right, whose hearts are filled
With lust for blood and power and impious arms,
Profane and cruel sons — in brief, my own ?
Toward every form of evil deed they strive,
And have no scruples where their wrath impels.
In shame begot, they have no sense of shame. 300

They have no feeling for their wretched sire,
None for their country. Naught but lust of power
Rules in their maddened breasts. I know full well
To what dire ends they tend, what monstrous deeds
They are prepared to do; and for this cause
I seek to find destruction's shortest path,
And haste to die, while yet within my house 305

There is no soul more steeped in guilt than I.
O child, why dost thou weep about my knees,
Why seek with prayer to soften my hard heart ?
This means alone my fortune has reserved
By which I may be led, unconquered else;
For thou alone canst soothe my stubborn soul, 310

Canst teach me piety. For naught is hard
Or grievous in my sight, if I perceive
That thou dost wish it. Do thou but command:
(_Then will I swim the broad Aegean straits,
Will drink the flames which from Sicilia's mount
Earth belches forth in whirling, molten streams, 315

Will beard the savage dragon in his den,

66 The Tragedies of Seneca

Still raging at the theft <»f Hercules;

At thy command, to birds of prey will give

My bleeding bearl at thy command will live.

| The first act seems to be compute here, except for the commenting chorus

which would naturally jollow. Oedipus has temporarily yielded to his
daughter's "will.}

ACT II

[The following passage fittingly opens the second act or episode.
Although some editors would assign it to Antigone, it seems more fittingly
to belong to a messenger who has just arrived, for the double reason that it
gives fresher information from Thebes than Antigone would naturally possess;
and that Oedipus, ajter the speech to his daughter with which the previous
scene ended, would hardly address to her as rough a reply as he uses in
his next speech.]

Messenger: Thee, sprung from regal stock to be our guide, 320

In fear of civil strife our Thebes invokes,

And prays that thou wouldst save thy father's house

From the flaming torch of war. No mere threats, these;

For ever nearer does destruction come.

One brother claims his share of royal power,

His turn to rule according to the bond,

And now is rousing all the tribes of Greece 325

To bloody war. Against the walls of Thebes

Seven camps have set them down. Haste to our aid,

And war and crime prohibit equally.
Oedipus: Do I seem one to stay the hand of crime,

And teach it to refrain from kindred blood ?

Should I teach righteousness and filial love ? 330

They take me as a model for their crimes,

And follow me. I gladly recognize

And praise them as my sons; I urge them on

To do some outrage worthy of their sire.

Then on, my worthy offspring; by your deeds

Approve your noble birth; do ye surpass 335

My glory and my praises; do some deed

Because of which your father will rejoice

Phoenissae 67

That he has lived till now. And well I know

That you will do it; for to such an end

Were ye brought forth. Such noble birth as yours

Cannot be satisfied with common crime

Or slight. Then forward with your impious arms!

Attack your household gods with flaming brands; 340

With torches gather in the ripened grain

Upon your native fields; confuse all things,

And hurry all to ruin absolute;

O'erthrow the city's walls, yea, lay them low,

E'en to the level of the plain; the gods

And temples in one common fall o'erwhelm;

Destroy our lares, now so foully stained,

And let our whole house perish utterly; 345

Let all the city be consumed with fire,

And be my impious marriage chamber first

To feel the flames.
Antigone: This raging storm of grief

Give o'er; and let the sorrows of the state

Prevail with thee to reconcile thy sons.
Oedipus: And dost thou think that thou dost see in mc 350

A mild old man given o'er to peaceful thoughts ?

And dost thou summon me unto thine aid,

As one who loves to 'stablish peace ? Not so:

For even now my spirit swells with rage,

My grief burns fiercely, and I long to see

Some greater deed than chance or youthful wrath

Would dare attempt. I am not satisfied

With civil war: let brother brother slay. 355

Nor yet would this suffice. I wait to see

Some evil done that shall lx> like my own,

That shall be worthy of my marriage bed.

Give deadly weapons to my mother's hand —

But do not seek to drag me from these woods.

Here will I hide within the rocky caves,

Or hedge myself about with thickets dense. 360

Here will I catch at warlike rumor rife

And hear what news I may of brothers' strife.

0

68 Tim Tragedies ok Sen e c a

ACT III

[// is possible that the following fragments belong to still another play.
The presence oj Antigone in Thebes, notwithstanding her resolve to remain
with her father, would strengthen this view.]

Jocasta: Oh, fortunate Agave! for she bore,

Within the hand which did the deed, the spoil,

The horrid spoil of her dismembered son, 365

A raging Maenad. Yea, she did the deed;

But naught in all her sinfulness did she

Save that one crime.1 It is my least of sins

That I am guilty; this my greater crime,

That I have made another sinful too.

But even this seems light when I reflect

That I have given birth to sinful sons.

Till now 'twas wanting to my sum of woe

That I should love my country's enemy. 370

Three times has winter put away his snows,

And thrice have Ceres' golden harvests fall'n

Beneath the sickle, since my hapless son

In exile wanders, robbed of fatherland,

And craves assistance from the Grecian kings.

He has become Adrastus' son-in-law,

Whose sway is o'er the waters of the sea

Which Isthmus cleaves. Adrastus even now 375

Is leading on his tribes, and with him march

Seven other royal hosts. Ah, woe is me,

I know not what I ought to wish or say.

My exiled son with justice claims his share

Of empire, but he seeks it wrongfully.

How shall I pray ? I count them both my sons, 380

And yet, alas, without impiety,

Can I for neither pray. If for one son

I call a blessing down, 'tis but a curse

Upon the other's head. Yet this I know:

Although I love them both with equal love,

My heart inclines toward the better cause, 385

The worser fortune, ever favoring him

1 Reading, ultra suum scelus hoc cucurrit.

Phoenissae

69

Who suffers more; for this is fortune's way

To win the wretched to their own again.
[Enter Messenger in haste.]
Messenger: O queen, while thou dost utter these complaints,

And spend'st the precious time in useless tears,

With weapons drawn the battle lines approach.

The trumpet's blare incites to bloody war,

And even now the eagles are advanced. 390

(^_The kings in seven-fold battle are arrayed,

While the sons of Thebes with equal spirit go

To meet the enemy. With hurrying tread,

Now here, now there, advance the soldiery.

Behold, dark clouds of dust obscure the day,
rAnd from the plain dense, smokclike billows rise, 395

Which earth, beneath the tread of countless hoofs,

Sends rolling heavenward. And through the dust,

If terror-stricken eyes can see aright,

The hostile standards shine; with lifted spears

The foremost ranks advance; while banners gleam,

Bearing the names of famous generals wrought 400

In golden characters.

Then haste, O queen:

Unto the warring brothers love restore,

Give peace to all, and by a mother's hands

Prevent the conflict of these impious bands.
Antigone: O mother, haste thee, haste on flying feet;

Hold back their weapons, from my brothers' hands

Strike down the swords, and 'twixt their deadly points
rThy bared breast interpose. Then, mother, haste; 405

Or stop the war, or be thou first to fall.
Jocasta: I go, I go, and 'twixt their swords will stand,

And there unto their points expose my life.

And he who shall his brother seek to slay

Must slay his mother first. At my command

The son whose heart is moved by piety

Will lay aside his arms; the impious son 410

Must first make war on me. These fiery youths

Will I, although a woman, old, restrain.

Within my sight shall be no impious deed;

7o

T II E T R A G E DIES <> l S l \ E C A

Or, if within my sight one impious deed
Can be committed then shall two lx' done.
[Exit toward the scene of conflict.]
Antigone: Now gleam the advancing standards, near at hand;

And loud the hostile battle-cry resounds. 415

A moment, and the impious t]rvA is done.

O mother, speed thee with thy prayers. But Si

You would suppose them by my weeping moved,

So slowly do the arme*d lines advance.

Messenger: The lines move slowly, but the leaders haste.

Jocasta {hurrying onward]: What winged wind will speed me through

the air, 42°

bearing me onward with the storm's mad whirl?
What monstrous Sphinx or dark Stymphalian bird,
Whose spreading wings blot out the light of day,
Will tear me on its space -consuming wings?
What Harpy, hovering o'er the royal board
Of that stern Thracian king, will catch me up
Along the lofty highways of the air, 425

And cast me headlong 'twixt th' opposing lines?

Messenger [looking ajter her]: Like some wild creature reft of sense she goes.
Swift as an arrow shot by Parthian hand,
M3r as a ship which boisterous winds impel,
Or as the flight of falling star from heaven, 430

Which in unswerving course athwart the sky
Darts on its fiery way: with maddened haste
The queen has sped her flight, and even now
Has ta'en her stand between th' opposing lines.
The battle pauses yet a little while,
O'ercome at sight of those maternal tears.
And now the hosts, on mutual slaughter bent, 435

Stand with their weapons balanced in their hands.
Peace wins the day; the threat'ning points are lowered;
The swords are sheathed. But in the brothers' hands
They still are poised. The frantic mother now,
Her white hair torn with grieving, speaks to them, 440

Beseaches their reluctant, stubborn wills,
And wets their knees with tears. Too long they bide:
Such halting bodes the mother's prayers denied.

Phoenissae 71

<G

ACT IV

[On the field before Thebes, between the battle lines.]

Jocasla [kneeling between her two hostile sons]: 'Gainst me your arms
and blazing torches turn ;
'Gainst me alone let every warrior rush,
Who comes from Argos thirsting for the fray,
And they who from the citadel of Thebes 445

Come down to battle. Friend and foe, alike,
Attack this womb of mine which brothers bore
Unto my husband. Rend me limb from limb,
And scatter mc abroad upon the plain.
I bore you both — will you lay down your arms ?
Or shall I say from whom I bore you, too ?
Give me your hands while still they are unstained. 450

'Till now 'twas all unwittingly you sinned;
'Twas fortune's crime, who ever 'gainst our peace
Delights to plot. But this impiety
Is done with fullest knowledge of your sin.
Within your power lies whichsoe'er you will: 455

If filial love, then grant your mother peace;
If crime, then must you do a greater crime.
Your mother stands between you, blocks your way;
Have done with war or with the war's delay.
To which of you in fond anxiety

Shall I address my prayers ? Whom first embrace ? 460
My heart with equal love is drawn to both.

[Turning to Polynias. 1
This son has wandered far away from me;
But if the compact of the brothers holds,
This other son must wander too. Alas,
And shall I never see you both again,
Except in enmity? Do thou come first
Into thy mother's arms, who hast endured
So many toils, so many miseries, 465

And, worn with weary exile, see'st at last
Thy mother's face. Come nearer to me here.
Now sheathe thine impious sword; and this thy spear,
Which even now is quivering with hate

72 The Tragedies of Seneca

And eager to \k thrown, thrust in the ground.

Put by thy shield as well; it keeps me off 470

Prom folding thee unto my mother-breast.

Unbind thy brow, and from thy warlike head

Thy helm remove and let me sec thy face.

Why dust thou turn away, and fix thine eyes

With timid gaze upon thy brother's band?

I'll throw my arms about thee for a shield, 475

That through my body only may the sword

Find passage to thy blood. Why hesitate ?

Can it lx' that thou dost fear thy mother's pledge ?
Polymces.\J fear; for nature's laws no longer hold.

Since I have known a brother's faithlessness,

I scarce can trust my mother's plighted word. 480

Jocasta: Then lay thy hand upon the sword again,

Bind on thy helmet, take again thy shield;

And while thy brother doth his arms remove,

Remain thou armed.

[To Eteocles.]
Do thou lay by thy sword,

Who first didst cause the weapon to be drawn.

If peace is hateful to thee, if in war

Thou dost prefer to rage, a moment's truce 485

Thy mother begs of thee, that on her sons,

Returned but now from exile, she may print

A kiss of love, the first — perchance the last.

While I seek peace, attend ye both, unarmed.

Dost thou fear him, and he fear thee, in turn ?

But I do fear you both, and for you both.

Why dost refuse to sheathe thy naked sword ?

Rejoice in this delay. You wage a war, 49°

Of which the best end is to be o'ercome.

And dost thou fear thy hostile brother's wiles ?

If one must on his brother work deceit

Or suffer it himself, 'tis better far

To be the victim of the treachery

Than to perform the crime. But fear thou not; 495

For I will shield thee from all sudden snares.

Do I prevail with thee ? Or must I grudge

Phoenissae 73

Thy Gather's blindness? Have I hither come
To check an impious crime, or see it done
Before my wry eyes ?

[Eteocles yields to her.]

He sheathes his sword.
And on his peaceful, grounded spear he leans.

[Site turns to Poly n ices.]
And now to thee, O son, thy mother turns 500

With prayers and tears. At last I see thy face
Which long have I desired and prayed to see.
Thee, as an exile from thy fatherland,
The household of a foreign king protects;
O'er many seas, by many chances driven,
Thou'rt still a wanderer. It was not mine
With stately train to lead thee to thy bride, 505

With my own hand to deck the festal halls,
And with sacred fillets wreathe thy wedding torch.
The father of thy bride no wedding gifts,
No wealth of gold, has given, no fields, no towns;
Thy only gift is war. A foeman's son 510

Hast thou become, far from thy native land,
An alien household's guest, driven from thine own,
Committed to another's interests,
A sinless exile. That no element
.\ Tight fail thee of thy father's hapless fate,
Thou too hast blundered in thy marriage choice.
O son, after so many years returned, 515

0 son, thy anxious mother's hope and fear,
For sight of whom I ever prayed the gods;
Though thy return was doomed to take from me
As much as at thy coming it could give:

i(When shall I cease to fear for thee?" I said; 520

The mocking god replied: "Him shalt thou fear."

1 should not haw thee near me now, indeed,
Were there no war; and there would be no war,
If thou wert not at hand. Oh, bitter price
And hard, that I must pay for sight of thee.

But still there's pleasure in't. These hostile hosts — 525

Let them withdraw a little space from here,

74 The Tragedies of Seneca

While yet stern Mars dares no impiety.

Yet this as well is great impiety,

That they have been 80 near. I am appalled,

And tremble when I see two brothers stand,

Bach fronting each, upon the brink of crime. 530

My limbs do quake with fear. How near I came

To seeing greater infamy than that

Which thy poor father never could have seen!

Though I am freed from fear of such a crime,

Though I shall not behold such evil now,

Still am I most unhappy when I think

How nearly I beheld it. O my son,

By the womb that bore thee through ten weary months, 535

And by thy noble sister's piety;

By thy unhappy father's sightless eyes,

Which he, though innocent of any crime,

Tore out, his fatal error to avenge:

Turn from thy father's walls these impious brands, 540

Send back the standards of this warring host.

Though thou shouldst yield, still is the greater part

Of thy impiety already done:

Thy fatherland has seen its fertile plains

By hordes of hostile soldiery o'errun,

The armed legions gleaming from afar, 545

The broad Cadmean meadows trampled down

By flying hoofs, the princes, insolent,

High in their chariots dashing o'er the plain,

The blazing torches threatening our homes

With utter devastation, and, a crime

Which even Thebes till now has never seen,

A brother 'gainst his brother waging war.

This crime was seen by all our The ban host; 550

The citizens and both thy sisters saw,

And I thy mother; to himself is due

That Oedipus, thy father, saw it not.

Oh, do thou but compare thyself with him,

By whose stern judgment fitting penalty

E'en error pays. Do not with impious sword 555

Destroy thy city and thy father's house,

Phoenissae 75

X< »r overthrow the city thou wouldst rule.

CWhat madness holds its sway within thy soul?

Wouldst thou, by seeking to obtain the land,

Destroy it ? That it may become thine own,

Dost thou intend to spoil it utterly ?

To thine own cause thou doest deadly wrong,

In harrying this very soil of thine 560

With hostile arms, in laying low the crops,

And spreading fear through all the country round.

No one such devastation ever works

Upon his own. What thou dost burn with fire,

And reap with sword, 'tis plain that thou dost grant

To be another's. Gain thou then the throne,

Whichever of you will; but gain it so

That 'twill not be the kingdom's overthrow. 565

Dost seek these homes with hostile sword and brand ?

Wilt thou avail to batter down these walls

Which great Amphion built, these mighty walls,

Whose stones no human hand e'er set in place,

The huge weights moving by the creaking crane —

Hut, marshaled by the strains of song and harp,

The stones, e'en to the topmost turret's round, 570

Moved of their own accord — wouldst shatter these ?

As victor wilt thou bear away the spoils ?

And shall rough soldiery lead off in chains

Thy father's noble friends and stately dames

Torn from their grieving husbands' very arms ?

And, mingled with the wretched captive band, 575

Shall Theban maidens go as presents meet

For wives of Argos ? And shall I myself,

My hands (disgraceful !) bound behind my back,

The mother, be the booty of the son,

In triumph borne ? And canst thou bear to see

On every hand thy fellow-citizens

To dire destruction given ? 'Gainst these dear walls 580

Canst thou lead on the savage enemy,

And fill thy native Thebes with blood and flame ?

Hast thou so wild a heart within thy breast,

So hard and savage — and not yet a king?

76

The Trai, edies of Seneca

Then what will't be when thou the Bcepter wield'st ?

Oh, put aside thy spirit's swelling rage,

Anil give thyself once more to piety. 585

Potynices: Thai, 1 may wander still a Fugitive ?

That ever, banished from my native land,
Upon a stranger's bounty 1 may live ?
What, think'st thou, could I suffer more than this,
If I had broken faith or falsely sworn?
Shall I be punished for another's sin,

While lie enjoys the profits of his crime ? 590

Thou bid'st me go; and gladly would I yield
Unto my mother's will. But whither, then,
Shall I depart ? "Let my proud brother dwell
Within my royal halls, and some poor hut
Be my abode": let such a boon be given
Unto the exile; give him in exchange

A hovel for a throne. And shall I, then, 595

A pensioner upon my wealthy bride,
Be forced to yield to her unbending will,
And to her father's domineering ways
Submit like any slave ? 'Tis hard, indeed,
To fall from royalty to servitude.
Jocasta: If thou art eager for a royal throne,

And if, without the scepter in thy hand,

Thou canst not live, whatever land thou wilt 600

Will offer many kingdoms to thy hand.

On this side Tmolus lifts his ridgy heights,

Well known to Bacchus, where wide-spreading plains

Stretch out upon the grain-producing earth;

And where Pactolus' all-enriching stream

O'erflows the country with its sands of gold.

And there Maeander through the joyful fields 605

Directs his wandering waves; swift Hermus, too,

Cleaves meadows rich. And there is Gargara,

Beloved of Ceres, and the fertile plains

WTiich Xanthus waters, fed by Ida's snows.

And here, where ends the long Ionian sea,1 610

Across the narrows from Abydos stands

« The text is corrupt here. The Ionian Sea, situated to the west of Greece, can have no
possible connection with the region here described, i. e., the Hellespont.

Phoenissae 77

The Thracian Scstos. Farther to the east,

With safe and numerous harbors, lies the land

Of Lycia. There realms seek with thy sword;

Against these peoples let Adrastus fight,

And to thy sceptered hand deliver them. 615

Consider that thy father still is king

Within this realm of Thebes. Far better, then,

Than such returns as this will exile seem.

Thou liv'st in exile through another's sin;

But thy return must be through thine alone.

With those brave troops of thine 'twere better far

To seek thee out new realms unstained by crime. 620

Nay, e'en thy brother's self will be thy aid,

And fight for thee. Go, wage such warfare, then,

That, as thou fight'st, thy mother and thy sire

May pray for thy success. For, be assured,

That kingdoms won by crime are heavier far

Than any exile. 625

Now consider well
The woes of war and war's uncertainties:
Though thou dost bring with thee the flower of Greece,
Though far and near thy arme'd soldiery
Is spread, still ever in the balance hangs
The fate of war. 'Tis all as Mars decides.
Though two may seem to be unmatched in strength, 630

The sword will make them equal; hope and fear
Are subject to the blind caprice of fate.
Uncertain is the prize of war thou seek'st,
But sure the crime. Suppose that all the gods
Have heard thy prayers; suppose the citizens,
In panic fear, have turned their backs and fled;
The soldiers' bloody corpses hide the plain: 635

Though in such victory thou shouldst exalt
And bear thy murdered brother's spoils away,
Thy victory' is but a broken thing.
What sort of warfare, think'st thou, that would be,
In which the victor wins by curseVl crime,
And glories in it? Nay, thy brother's self,
Whom thou, unhappy man, dost seek to slay, 640

78

T hi T r a G i n 1 i: s o v S i \ i c a

Polymces;

Jocasta:

Polynias:
Jocasta:

Eteodes:

Jocasta:
Eteodes:

Jocasta:
Eteodes:

Jocasta:
Eteodes:

When thou hast gained thy wish, thou wilt lament.
Oh, then, forego this most unhallowed strife,
And free at last thy fatherland from fear,
Thy parents from their grief.

Shall I do tins,

That so for all his treachery and crime

My cursld brother be not recompensed?

Fear not. He shall indeed be recompensed, 645

For he shall reign.

Is that a punishment ?
If thou believe me not, believe thy sire,
Believe thy grandsire too. This truth to thee
Will Cadmus and the house of Cadmus tell.
Without disaster has no Theban king
E'er held the scepter, nor will anyone
W'h 1 wins the kingly power by broken faith
Retain it long. And 'mongst those faithless ones 650

Count now thy brother.

Be it even so:
If I must die, I count it worthy death,
To die with kings.

[To Polynices.]

Thee to the exiled band
I doom.

Reign then, but hated by thy friends.
Who shrinks from hatred does not wish to reign.
That great divinity who made the world 655

Made of one substance royalty and hate.
For me, I count it worthy of a king
To overcome this hate. By love of friends
Too oft is royal power circumscribed.
O'er those who hate him is the king more free
To lord it as he will. Who would be loved,
With but a weak and languid scepter reigns.
But hated empire never long endures. 660

'Tis for the king to speak of empire's rules.
Do thou give laws for exiles. For the throne —
Wouldst burn thy native land, thy home and all ?
A kingdom is well bought at any price.

MEDEA

MEDEA

Medea
Jason .

Creon

Nurse . .
Messenger

Two Sous

DRAMATIS PERSONAE
Daughter of Aee'tes, King of Colchis, and wife of Jason.
Son of Aeson, and nephew of Pelias, the usurping king of
Thessaly; organizer and leader of the Argonautic expedition
to Colchis in quest of the golden fleece.
King of Corinth, who had received into his hospitable king-
dom Medea and Jason, fugitives from Thessaly, after Medea
had plotted the death of Pelias.

Of Medea.

Of Medea and Jason (personae mutae).

Chorus oj Corinthians. Friendly to Jason and hostile to Medea.

The time of the play is confined to the single day of the culmination /
of the tragedy, the day proposed by Creon for the banishment of Medea
and marriage of Jason to Creiisa, daughter of Creon.

The scene is in Corinth, in the court of the house of Jason.

Although the play is confined in time to the final day of catastrophe
at Corinth, the background is the whole romantic story of the Argonauts:
how Jason and his hero-comrades, at the instigation oj Pelias, the usurping
king oj Thessalian Iolchos, undertook the first voyage in quest oj the golden
fleece; how, after many adventures, these first sailors reached the kingdom
oj Aeeles who jealously guarded the fleece, since upon its possession depended
his own kingship; how the three deadly labors were imposed upon Jason
before the fleece could be won — the yoking oj the fiery bulls, the contest with the
giants that sprang jrom the sown serpent's teeth, and the overcoming oj the
sleepless dragon that ever guarded the fleece; how, smitten by love oj him,
the beautiful, barbaric Medea, daughter oj the king, by the help oj her magic
aided Jason in all these labors and accompanied him in his flight; how, to
retard her father's pursuit she slew her brother and scattered his mangled
remains in the path as they fled; how again, jor love oj Jason, she restored
his jalhcr to youth and tricked Pelias' own daughters into slaying their aged
sire; how, jor this act, Medea with her husband were exiled jrom Thessalia
and dwelt in Corinth; how, jor ten happy years, she lived with her husband
and two sons in this alien land, her wild past almost jorgoitcn, her magic
untouched.

But now, Jason has been gradually won away jrom his wije, and is
about to wed Creiisa, the daughter oj Creon, king oj Corinth. The wedding
festivities have, already begun when the play opens and reveals Medea invok-
ing all the powers oj heaven and hell in punishment oj her jalse lord.

ACT I

Medea: Ye gods of wedlock, thou the nuptial couch's guard,
Lucina, thou from whom that tamer of the deep,
The Argo's pilot, learned to guide his pristine bark,
And Neptune, thou stern ruler of the ocean's depths,
And Titan, by whose rays the shining day is born, 5

Thou triformed maiden Hecate, whose conscious beams
With splendor shine upon the mystic worshipers —
Upon ye all I call, the powers of heaven, the gods
By whose divinity false Jason swore; and ye
Whose aid Medea may more boldly claim, thou world
Of endless night, th' antipodes of heavenly realms,
Ye damne"d ghosts, thou lord of hades' dark domain, 10

Whose mistress was with trustier pledge won to thy side —
Before ye all this baleful prayer I bring: Be near!
Be near! Ye crime-avenging furies, come and loose
Your horrid locks with serpent coils entwined, and grasp
With bloody hands the smoking torch; be near as once 15

Ye stood in dread array beside my wedding couch.
Upon this new-made bride destruction send, and death
Upon the king and all the royal line ! But he,
My husband, may he live to meet some heavier doom;
This curse I imprecate upon his head; may he,
Through distant lands, in want, in exile wander, scorned 20
And houseless. Nay, may he once more my favor woo;
A stranger's threshold may he seek where now he walks

.T A well-known guest; and — this the blackest curse I know —
May children rise to him to emulate their sire,

> Their mother's image bear. — Now won is vengeance, won!
For I have children borne. — Nay, nay, 'tis empty plaints 25

And useless words I frame. Shall I not rather rush
Against the foe and dash the torches from their hands,

j" The light from heaven? Does Father Phoebus suffer this?
Do men behold his face, as, seated in his 1

He rolls along th' accustomed track of sky serene? 30

Why does he not return to morning's gates, the law

83

84 The Tragedies of Seneca

Of heaven reversing? Grant that I be borne aloft

In my ancestral car! Give me the reins, O sire,
Thy fiery team grant me to guide with lines of flame.
Then Corinth, though with double shore delaying fate, 35

Herself consumed with fire, shall light two seas with flame.
Hut no, this course alone remains, that I myself
Should bear the wedding torch, with acquiescent prayers,
And slay the victims on the altars consecrate.
Thyself inspect the entrails, and seek there the way 40

j By prayer, if still, O soul, thou livest, if there still
Remaineth aught of old-time strength in thee! Away
With woman's fears! Put on thy heart a breast-plate hard
And chill as Caucasus ! Then all the wizard arts
That Phasis knew, or Pontus, shall be seen again
s^ In Corinth. Now with mad, unheard of, dreadful deeds, 45

JT Whereat high heaven and earth below shall pale and quake,
My pregnant soul is teeming; and my heart is full
Of pictured wounds and death and slaughter. — Ah, too long
- On trifling ills I dwell. These were my virgin deeds.!

Now that a mother's pains I've felt, my larger heart 50

Must larger crimes conceive. Then passion, gird thyself,

Put on thy strength, and for the issue now prepare !

Let my rejection pay as dread a fee as when,

Of old, through impious deeds of blood, I came to him.

Come, break through slow delay, and let the home once won

By crime, by equal deeds of crime be done away! 55

Chorus [chanting the epithalamium for the nuptials of Jason and Creusa]:

Now on our royal nuptials graciously smiling,

Here may the lords of heaven and the deeps of the ocean

Come while the people feast in pious rejoicing!

First to the gods who sway the scepter of heaven,

Pealing forth their will in the voice of thunder,

Let the white bull his proud head bow in tribute. 60

Then to the fair Lucina, her gift we offer,

White as the driven snow, this beautiful heifer,

Still with her neck untouched by the yoke of bondage.

Medea 85

Thou who alone canst rule the heart of the war-god,

Thou who Iinkest in peace the opposing nations,

Out of thy generous hand abundance pouring — 65

iThee we offer a daintier gift, O Concord!

Thou who, on the marriage torches attending,

Night's dark gloom with favoring hand dispellest,

Hither come with languishing footstep drunken,

Binding thy temples fair with garlands of roses! 70

Star of the evening, thou who to twilight leadest
The day, and hailest again the dawn of the morning,
All too slowly thou com'st for lovers impatient,
Eager to see thy sign in the glow of the sunset.

The fairest of girls is she, 75

The Athenian maids outshining,
Or the Spartan maiden with armor laden,
No burden of war declining.

Not by Alpheus' sacred stream,
Nor Boeotia's musical water,
Is there any fair who can compare 80

With our lovely Corinthian daughter.

Our Thessalian prince excels,
In beauty of form and face,
Even Bacchus, the son of the fierce-flaming one,

Who yokes the wild tigers in place. 85

The murmuring tripod's lord,
Though the fairest in heavenly story,
The twins with their star bright gleaming afar —

All yield to our Jason in glory. 90

When in her train of courtly maidens she mingles —

Like the bright sunshine paling the starry splendor, 95

Or the full moonlight quenching the Pleiads' brilliance,

So does she shine, all peerless, of fair ones the fairest.

Now, O Jason, freed from the hateful wedlock 100

That held thee bound to the barbarous Colchian woman,
Joyfully wed the fair Corinthian maiden,
While at last her parents' blessings attend thee. 105

86 The Tragedies of Seneca

Ho then, youths, with licensed jest and rejoicing,
| Loud kt the songs of gladness ring through the city;
Rarely against our lords such freedom is given.

Fair and noble hand of Bacchus, the thyrsus-bearer, no

Now is the time to light die glittering torches of pinewood.
Shake on high the festal fire with languishing fingers;

Now let the hold and merry lYsannine laughter and jesting

Sound through our ranks. Let Medea fare in silence and darkness,

If perchance another lord she shall wed in her exile. 115

ACT II

.\fnlra: We are undone! How harsh upon mine ears doth grate
The song! and even now I cannot comprehend
The vast extent of woe that hath befallen me.
Could Jason prove so false ? Bereft of native land,
And home, and kingdom, could he leave me here alone
On foreign shores? Oh, cruel, could he quite reject 120

My sum of service, he who saw the fire and sea
With crime o'ercome for his dear sake ? And does he think
That thus the fatal chapter can be ended ? Wild,
^ Devoid of reason, sick of soul, my swift mind darts
In all directions seeking whence revenge may come!
I would he had a brother ! But his wife — 'gainst her 125

Be aimed the blow ! Can thus my wrongs be satisfied ?
Nay, nay — to meet my sum of woe must be heaped high
The crimes of Greece, of strange barbaric lands, and those
Which even thy hands have not known. Now lash thy soul
With memory's scourge, and call thy dark deeds in review: 130
The glory of thy father's kingdom reft away;
Thy brother, guiltless comrade of thy guilty flight,
All hewn in pieces and his corpse strewn on the deep,
To break his royal father's heart; and, last of crimes,
Old Pelias by his daughters slain at thy command. 135

O impious one, what streams of blood have flowed to work
Thy ends ! And yet, not one of all my crimes by wrath
Was prompted. Loye, ill-omened love, suggested all.
Yet, what could Jason else have done, compelled to serve
Another's will, another's law ? He should have died

Medea

87

Nurse:

Medea,

Nurse:

:' Medea.
'^'^Nursr:
Medea:
Nurse:
Medea:
Nurse:

Medea:

Nurse:
Medea:
Nurse:
Medea:
Xitrse:
Medea:
Nurse:

Before he yielded to the tyrant's will. Nay, nay, 140

Thou raging passion, speak not so! For, if he may,

I would that Jason still may live and still be mine,

As once he was; if not, yet may he still live on,

And, mindful of my merits, live without my aid.

The guilt is Creon's all, who with unbridled power

Dissolves the marriage bond, my children separates 145

From me who bore them, yea, and makes the strongest pledge,

Though ratified with straightcst oath, of none effect.

Let him alone sustain my wrath; let Creon pay •

The debt of guilt he owes! His palace will I bring

To utter desolation; and the whirling fire

To far-off Malea's crags shall send its lurid glare. 150

Be silent now, I pray thee, and thy plaints confine

/To secret woe ! The man who heavy blows can bear

Jin silence, biding still his time with patient soul,
Full oft his vengeance gains. 'Tis hidden wrath that harms;
But hate proclaimed oft loses half its power to harm.
But small the grief is that can counsel take and hide
Its head; great ills lie not in hiding, but must rush 155

Abroad and work their will.

Oh, cease this mad complaint,
My mistress; scarce can friendly silence help thee now.

VBut fortune fears the brave, the faint of heart o'erwlielms.

^Thcn valor be approved, if for it still there's room. 160

I But it must always be that valor finds its place.
No star of hope points out the way from these our woes.

; The man who hopes for naught at least has naught to fear.
The Colchians are thy foes; thy husband's vows nave failed;
Of all thy vast possessions not a jot is left. 165

Yet I am left. There's left both sea and land and fire
And sword and gods and hurtling thunderbolts.
The king must be revered.

My father was a king.
Dost thou not fear ?

Not though the earth produced the foe.
Thou'lt perish. 170

So I wish it.

Flee!

88

T n ]•: Tragedies or S i: n f. c a

Medea: I'm done with Bight.1

Why should Medea See?
Xurse: Thy children I

Medea: Whose, thou know'st.

\ :trse: And dost thou still delay?

Medea: I go, but vengeance first.

Nurse: Th' avenger will pursue.

Medea: Perchance I'll stop his course.

Nurse: Nay, hold thy words, and cease thy threats, O foolish one.

Thy temper curb; 'tis well to yield to fate's decrees. 175

^\\j\> .l/V</<-</.--( Though fair may sj rJlLmiI ^ a-U mJi myself am left.s/

But who Sings wide the royal palace doors? Behold,

'Tis Creon's self, exalted high in Grecian sway.

I Medea retires to hack of stage; exit Nurse; enter Creon.]
Creon: Medea, baleful daughter of the Colchian king,

Has not yet taken her hateful presence from our realm. 180

On mischief is she bent. Well known her treach'rous power.

For who escapes her ? Who may pass his days in peace ?

This cursed pestilence at once would I have stayed

By force of arms; but Jason's prayers prevailed. She still
I May live, but let her free my borders from the fear 185

I Her presence genders, and her safety gain by flight.
[He sees Medea approaching.]

But lo, she comes, with fierce and threatening mien, to seek

A.n audience with us.

[To attendants.]
Slaves defend us from her touch

And pestilential presence ! Bid her silence keep,

And learn to yield obedience to the king's commands. 190

[To Medea.]

Go, speed thy flight, thou thing of evil, fell, and monstrous!
Medea: But tell me what the crime, my lord, or what the guilt

That merits exile ?
Creon: Let the guiltless question thus.

Medea: If now thou judgest, hear me; if thou reign'st, command.2
Creon: The king's command thou must abide, nor question aught. 195
Medea: Unrighteous sovereignty has never long endured.

1 Reading. Medea fugiam, as a continuation of Medea's speech.
• Retaining si regnas, tube in Medea's speech.

Medea 89

Creon: Go hence, and to the Colchians complain.

Medea: I go,

But let him take me hence who brought me to thy shores.

Creon: Thy prayer has come too late, for fixed is my decree.

Medea: Who judges, and denies his ear to either side,

Though right his judgment, still is he himself unjust. 200

Creon: Didst lend thine ear to Pelias, ere thou judgedst him ?

But come, I'll give thee grace to plead thy goodly cause.

Medea: How hard the task to turn the soul from wrath, when once
To wrath inclined; how 'tis the creed of sceptered kings
To swerve not from the purposed course they once have taken, 205
Full well I know, for I have tasted royalty.
For, though by present storms of ill I'm overwhelmed,
An exile, suppliant, lone, forsaken, all forlorn,
I once in happier times a royal princess shone,
•f And traced my proud descent from heavenly Phoebus' self. 210
My father's realm extended wide o'er all the land
Where Phasis' gentle waters flow, o'er Scythia's plains
Whose rivers sweeten Pontus' briny waves; where, too,
Thermodon's banks inclose the race of warlike maids,
Whose gleaming shields strike terror to their foes. All this 215
My father held in sway. And I, of noble birth,
And blessed of heaven, in royal state was high upraised.
Then princes humbly sought my hand in wedlock, mine,
Who now must sue. O changeful fortune, thou my throne 220
Hast reft away, and given me exile in its stead.
Trust not in kingly realms, since fickle chance may strew *
Their treasures to the winds. Lo, this is regal, this
The work of kings, which time nor change cannot undo:
To succor the afflicted, to provide at need 225

A trusty refuge for the suppliant. This alone
I brought of all my Colchian treasure, this renown,
This very flower of fame,1 that by my arts I saved
The bulwark of the Greeks, the offspring of the gods.
My princely gift to Greece is Orpheus, that sweet bard 230

Who can the trees in willing bondage draw, and melt
The crag's hard heart. Mine too arc Boreas' winged sons,
And Leda's heaven-born progeny, and Lynceus, he,

1 Reading, gloriae.

go Tim Tragedies of Seneca

Whose glance can pierce the distant view — yea, all the Greeks,
Save Jason; for I mention not the king of kings,
The leader of the leaders; he is mine alone,
My labor's reeomi>ense; the rest I give to you. 235

Nay, conic, () king, arraign me, and rehearse my crimes.
But stay! for I'll confess them all. The only crime
( )f which I stand act used is this — the Argo saved.
Suppose my maiden scruples had opposed the deed;
Suppose my filial piety had stayed my hand:
Then had the mighty chieftains fall'n, and in their fate
All Greece had been o'erwhelmed; then this, thy son-indaw, 240
Had felt the bull's consuming breath, and perished there.
Nay, nay, let fortune, when she will, my doom decree;
I glory still that kings have owed their lives to me.
But what reward I reap for all my glorious deeds
Is in thy hands. Convict me, if thou wilt, of sin, 245

But give him back for whom I sinned. O Creon, see,
I own that I am guilty. This much thou didst know,
When first I clasped thy knees, a humble suppliant,
And sought the shelter of thy royal clemency.
Some little corner of thy kingdom now I ask,
In which to hide my grief. If I must flee again, 250

Oh, let some nook remote within thy broad domain
Be found for me !
Crcon: That I my power in mercy wield,

And spurn not those who seek my aid let Jason's self
My witness be, who, exiled, overwhelmed by fate, 255

And smitten sore with fear, a refuge found with me.
1 For lo, Thessalia's monarch, bent on vengeance dire,
Seeks Jason at my hand. The cause, indeed, is just:
For that his sire, o'erburdened with the weight of years,
Was foully taken off, while by thy wicked guile 260

His guileless sisters' hands were nerved to do the deed.
If now our Jason can unlink his cause from thine,
'Tis easy his defense to make, for on his hands
No stain of blood is found. His arm no sword upraised,
And he has had no part nor lot in this thy crime. 265

No, thou and thou alone the arch contriver art,
Uniting in thy person woman's fertile wit

Medea

9i

And man's effective strength; while in thy reckless heart

No thought of reputation dwells to check thy hand.
!>Then go thou hence and purge our kingdom of its stain;

Bear hence thy deadly poisons; free the citizens 270

From fear; abiding in some other land than this,

Outwear the patience of the gods.
Medea: Thou bid'st me flee?

Then give me back my bark wherein to flee. Restore

The partner of my flight ! Why should I flee alone ?

I came not thus. Or if avenging war thou fear'st,

Then banish both the culprits; why distinguish me 275

From Jason? 'Twas for him old Pelias was o'ercome;

For him the flight, the plunder of my father's realm,

My sire forsaken and my infant brother slain,

And all the guilt that love suggests; 'twas all for him.

Deep dyed in sin am I, but on my guilty soul 280

The sin of profit lieth not.
Creon: Why seek delay

By speech ? Too long thou tarriest.
Medea: I go, but grant

This last request: let not the mother's fall o'erwhelm

Her hapless babes.
Creon: Then go in peace. For I to them

A father's place will fill, and take them to my heart.
Medea: Now by the fair hopes born upon this wedding day, 285

And by thy hopes of lasting sovereignty secure

From changeful fate's assault, I pray thee grant from flight

A respite brief, while I upon my children's lips

A mother's kiss imprint, perchance the last.
Creon: A time

Thou seek'st for treachery. 290

Medea: What fraud can be devised

In one short hour ?
Creon: To those on mischief bent, be sure.

The briefest time is fraught with mischief's fatal power.
Medea: Dost thou refuse me, then, one little space for tears ?
I Creon: Though deep-ingrafted fear would fain resist thy plea,

A single day I'll give thee ere my sentence holds. 295

Medea: Too gracious thou. But let my respite further shrink,

92

Till T R A G EDIES OF S E N E C A

L'rcoii:

Chorus:

And I'll depart content.

Thy life shall surely pay
The forfeit if tomorrow's sun beholds thee still

In Corinth. Hut the voice of 1 l\ m. n calls away
To solemnize the rites of this his festal day.

[Exeunt.]

300

i

Too bold the man who first upon the seas,
The treacherous seas, his fragile bark confided;
Who, as the well-known shore behind him glided,

His life intrusted to the fickle breeze;

And, as his unknowrn seaward course he sped
Within his slender craft with foolish daring,
Midway 'twixt life and death went onward faring,

Along the perilous narrow margin led.

Not yet were sparkling constellations known,
Or sky, all spangled with the starry glory;
Not yet could sailors read the warning story

By stormy Hyades upon the heavens thrown.

Not yet was Zeus's foster-mother famed,
.Nor slow Bootes round the north star wheeling;
■I Nor Boreas nor Zephyr gently stealing,

Each feared or welcomed, though as yet unnamed.

First Tiphys dared to spread his venturous sail,
I The hidden lesson of the breezes learning,
I Now all his canvas to the Zephyrs turning,

Now shifting all to catch the changing gale.

Now midway on the mast the yard remains,
Now at the head with all its canvas drawing,
While eager sailors lure the breezes blowing,

And over all the gleaming topsail strains.

The guiltless golden age our fathers saw,
When youth and age the same horizon bounded;
No greed of gain their simple hearts confounded;

Their native wealth enough, 'twas all they knew.

3°5

310

3*5

320

325

33°

Medea 93

But lo, the severed worlds have been brought near
And linked in one by Argo's hand uniting;
While seas endure the oar's unwonted smiting, 335

And add their fury to the primal fear.

• This impious bark its guilt in dread atoned 340

When clashing mountains were together driven,
And sea, from sea in mighty conflict riven,

The stars besprinkled with the leaping foam. 345

Amid these perils sturdy Tiphys paled,
And from his nerveless hand the vessel bounded;
While stricken Orpheus' lyre no more resounded,

And tuneful Argo's warning message failed.

What sinking terror filled each quaking breast,
When near the borders of sea-girt Pelorus, 350

There smote upon their ears the horrid chorus

Of Scylla's baying wolves around them pressed.

What terror when they neared the Sirens' lair, 355

Who soothe the troubled waves with witching measures!
But Orpheus filled their souls with nobler pleasures,

And left the foe in impotent despair. 360

And of this wild adventure what the prize,
That lured the daring bark with heroes laden ?
The fleece of gold, and this mad Colchian maiden,

Well fit to be the first ship's merchandize.

The sea, subdued, the victor's law obeys; 365

No vessel needs a goddess' art in framing,
Nor oars in heroes' hands, the ocean taming:

The frailest craft now dares the roughest waves.

Xow, every bound removed, new cities rise 370

In lands remote, their ancient walls removing;
While men of Ind by Caspian shores are roving,

And Persia's face now greets the western skies. 375

The time will come, as lapsing ages flee,
When every land shall yield its hidden treasure;
When men no more shall unknown courses measure,

For round the world no "farthest land" shall be.

<)\ Tin Tragedies of Seneca

ACT III

[Medea is rushing out to seek vengeance, while the Nurse tries in vain

( to restrain her.]

Nurse: My Coster-daughter, whither speedesl thou abroad? 380

Oh, stay, I pray thee, and restrain thy passion's force.
[ Medea hastens by without answering. The Nurse soliloquises. \
As some wild Bacchanal, whose fury's raging fire
The god inflames, now roams distraught on Pindus' snows,
And now on lofty Nysa's rugged slopes; so she, 385

Now here, now there, with frenzied step is hurried on,
Her face revealing every mark of stricken woe,
With flushing cheek and sighs deep drawn, wild cries, and tears,
And laughter worse than tears. In her a medley strange
Of every passion may be seen: o'ertopping wrath, 390

Bewailings, bitter groans of anguish. Whither tends
This overburdened soul? What mean her frenzied threats?
When will the foaming wave of fury spend itself?
No common crime, I fear, no easy deed of ill
She meditates. Herself she will outvie. For well
I recognize the wonted marks of rage. Some deed
Is threatening, wild, profane, and hideous. 395

[Re-enter Medea.]

Behold
^Her face betrays her madness. O ye gods, may these
Our fears prove vain forebodings!
Medea [not noticing the Nurse's presence]: For thy hate, poor soul,
Dost thou a measure seek? Let it be deep as love.
And shall I tamely view the wedding torches's glare ?
And shall this day go uneventful by, this day,
So hardly won, so grudgingly bestowed ? Nay, nay, 400

While, poised upon her heights, the central earth shall bear
The heavens up; while seasons run their endless round,
And sands unnumbered lie; while days, and nights, and sun,
And stars in due procession pass; while round the pole
The ocean-fearing bears revolve, and tumbling streams
Flow downward to the sea; my grief shall never cease 405

To seek revenge, and shall forever grow. What rage
Of savage beast can equal mine ? What Scylla famed ?

Medea

95

415

420

What sea-engulfing pool? What burning Aetna placed
On impious Titan's heaving breast? No torrent stream, 410
Nor storm-tossed sea, nor breath of flame fanned by the gale,
Can cluck or equal my wild storm of rage. My will
j Is set on limitless revenge!

Will Jason say
He feared the power of Creon and Acastus' threats ?
True love is proof against the fear of man. But grant
He was compelled to yield, and pledged his hand in fear:
He might at least have sought his wife with one last word
Of comfort and farewell. But this, though brave in heart,
I le feared to do. The cruel terms of banishment
Could Creon's son-in-law not soften ? No. One day
Alone was giv'n for last farewell to both my babes.
But time's short space I'll not bewail; though brief in hours,
In consequence it stretches out eternally.
This day shall see a deed that ne'er shall be forgot.
But now I'll go and pray the gods, and move high heaven 425
But I shall work my will !

Thy heart all passion -tossed,
I pray thee, mistress, soothe, and calm thy troubled soul.
My troubled soul can never know a time of rest
Until it sees all things o'erwhelmed in common doom.
All must go down with me! 'Tis sweet such death to die.
[Exit Medea.]

Nurse [calling after her]: Oh, think what perils thou must meet if
thou persist!
No one with safety may defy a sceptered king.
[Enter Jason.]

Jason: O heartless fate, if frowns or smiles bedeck thy brow,
How often are thy cures far worse than the disease
They seek to cure! If, now, I wish to keep the troth
I plighted to my lawful bride, my life must pay
The forfeit; if I shrink from death, my guilty soul
Must perjured be. I fear no power that man can wield;
But in my heart paternal love unmans me quite;
For well I know that in my death my children's fate
Is sealed. O sacred Justice, if in heaven thou dwell'st,
Be witness now, that for my children's sake I act.

Nurse:

Medea:

43°

435

440

96 'I'll B T R A G BDIES OF S E N E C A

Nay, sure am I that even she, Medea's self,
Though fierce she is of soul and brooking no restraint,
Will Bee her children's good outweighing all her wrongs.
With this good argument my purpose now is fixed, 445

In humble wise to brave her wrath.
[Enter Medea.]

At sight of me
Her raging fury flames anew! Hate, like a shield,
She bears, and in her face is pictured all her woe.
Medea: Thou sce'st, Jason, that we flee. 'Tis no new thing
To sutler exile, but the cause of flight is strange;
For with thee I was wont to flee, not from thee. Yes,
I go. But whither dost thou send me whom thou driv'st 450

From out thy home ? Shall I the Colchians seek again,
My royal father's realm, whose soil is steeped in blood
My brother shed ? What country dost thou bid me seek ?
What way by sea is open ? Shall I fare again
Where once I saved the noble kings of Greece, and thee, 455

Thou wanton, through the threatening jaws of Pontus' strait,
The blue Symplegades ? Or shall I hie me back
To fair Thessalia's realms ? Lo, all the doors which I,
For thee, have opened wide, I've closed upon myself.
But whither dost thou send me now ? Thou bid'st me flee, 460
But show'st no way or means of flight.

But 'tis enough:
The king's own son-in-law commands and I obey.
Come, heap thy torments on me; I deserve them all.
Let royal wrath oppress me, wanton that I am,
With cruel hand, and load my guilty limbs with chains;
And let me be immured in dungeons black as night: 465

Still will my punishment be less than my offense.
O ingrate ! hast thou then forgot the brazen bull,
And his consuming breath ? the fear that smote thee, when,
Upon the field of Mars, the earth-born brood stood forth
To meet thy single sword ? 'Twas by my arts that they, 470
The monsters, fell by mutual blows. Remember, too,
The long-sought fleece of gold I won for thee, whose guard,
The dragon huge, was lulled to rest at my command;
My brother slain for thee. For thee old Pelias fell, 475

Medea

97

When, taken by my guile, his daughters slew their sire,
Whose life could not return. All this I did for thee.
In quest of thine advantage have I quite forgot
Mine own.

And now, by all thy fond paternal hopes,
By thine established house, by all the monsters slain 480

For thee, by these my hands which I have ever held
To work thy will, by all the perils past, by heaven
And sea that witnessed at my wedlock, pity me !
Since thou art blessed, restore me what I lost for thee:-^
That countless treasure plundered from the swarthy tribes
Of India, which filled our goodly vaults with wealth, 485

And decked our very trees with gold. This costly store
I left for thee, my native land, my brother, sire,
My reputation — all; and with this dower I came.
If now to homeless exile thou dost send me forth,
Give back the countless treasures which I left for thee. 490

Jason: Though Creon in a vengeful mood would have thy life,
I moved him by my tears to grant thee flight instead.

Medea: I thought my exile punishment; 'tis now, I see,
A gracious boon !

Jason: Oh, flee while still the respite holds;

Provoke him not, for deadly is the wrath of kings. 495

Medea; Not so. 'Tis for Creiisa's love thou sayest this;

Thou wouldst remove the hated wanton once thy wife.

Jason: Dost thou reproach me with a guilty love ?

Medea: Yea, that,

And murder too, and treachery.

Jason: But name me now,

If so thou canst, the crimes that I have done.

Medea: Thy crimes-

Whatever I have done.

Jason: Why then, in truth, thy guilt

Must all be mine, if all thy crimes are mine. 500

Medea: They are,

They are all thine ; for who by sin advantage gains,
Commits the sin. All men proclaim thy wife defiled.
Do thou thyself protect her, and condone her sin.
Let her be guiltless in thine eyes who for thy gain

«)S

T 11 1 T R A C, V. 1) I F. S O 1' S INI I" A

7 : <>;/.•

Medea:
Jason:

Medea:

Jason:
Medea:

J a ton:

Medea:
Jason:

Medea :
Jason:

Medea:

Jason:

Medea:
Jason:

Medea.

Jason:

Medea:

1 1 - sinned.

But gifts which sin has bought 'twere shame to lake.
Why keep'sl thou then the gifts which it were shame to take ? 505
Nay, curb thy fiery soul! Thy children— for their sake

Be calm.

My children I Them I do refuse, reject,
Renounce] Shall then Creusa brothers hear to these
My children ?

But the queen can aid thy wretched sons.
May that day never dawn, that day of shame and woe, 510

When in one house are joined the low born and the high,
The sons of that foul robber Sisyphus, and these,
\The sons of Phoebus.

Wretched one, and wilt thou then
Involve me also in thy fall ? Begone, I pray.
Creon hath heard my prayer.

What wouldst thou have me do ? 515
For me ? I'd have thee dare the law.

The royal power
Doth compass me.

A greater than the king is here:
Medea. Set us front to front and let us strive;
And of this royal strife let Jason be the prize.
O'erwearied by my woes I yield. But be thou ware,
Medea, lest too often thou shouldst tempt thy fate. 520

Yet fortune's mistress have I ever been.

But see,
With hostile front Acastus comes, on vengeance bent,
While Creon threatens instant death.

Then flee them both.
I ask thee not to draw thy sword against the king
1 Nor yet to stain thy pious hands with kindred blood.
Come, flee with me.

But what resistance can we make, 525

If war with double visage rear his horrid front,
If Creon and Acastus join in common cause?
Add, too, the Colchian armies with my father's self
To lead them; join the Scythian and Pelasgian hordes:
In one deep gulf of ruin will I whelm them all.

Medea

99

Jason: Yet on the scepter do I look with fear.
Medea: Beware,

Lest not the fear, but lust of power prevail with thee.

Jason: Too long we strive: have done, lest we suspicion breed. 530

Medea: Now Jove, throughout thy heavens let the thunders roll !
Thy mighty arm in wrath make bare ! Thy darting flames
Of vengeance loose, and shake the lofty firmament
With rending storms! At random hurl thy vengeful bolts,
Selecting neither me nor Jason with thy aim;
That thus whoever falls may perish with the brand 535

Of guilt upon him; for thy hurtling darts can take
No erring flight.

Jason: Recall thee and in calmness speak

With words of peace and reason. Then if any gift
From Creon's royal house can compensate thy woes,
Take that as solace of thy flight.

Medea: My soul doth scorn 540

The wealth of kings. But let me have my little ones
As comrades of my flight, that in their childish breasts
Their mother's tears may flow. New sons await thy home.

Jason: My heart inclines to yield to thee, but love forbids.

For these my sons shall never from my arms be reft, 545

Though Creon's self demand. My very spring of life,
My sore heart's comfort, and my joy are these my sons;
And sooner could I part with limbs or vital breath,
Or light of life.

Medea [aside]: Doth he thus love his sons ? 'Tis well;

Then is he bound, and in his armored strength this Haw 550

Reveals the place to strike.

[To Jason.]

At least, ere I depart,
Grant me this last request: let me once more embrai e
My sons. E'en that small boon will comfort my sad heart.
And this my latest prayer to thee: if, in my grief,
My tongue was over bold, let nol my words remain 555

To rankle in thy heart. Remember happier things
Of me, and let my bitter words be straight forgot.

Jason: Not one shall linger in my soul; and 1 urb, I pray,
j Thy too impetuous heart, and gently yield to fate.

ioo T ii k T R A <: r D i l. s o 1 S i \ i: c A

For resignation ever soothes the woeful bouI.

[Exit Jason.]

Medea: He's gone I And can it Ik*? And shall he thus depart, 560
Forgetting me and all my Bervice? Must I drop,
Like some discarded toy, out of his faithless heart?
It shall nol be. Up then, and summon all thy strength
And all thy skill! And, this the fruit of former crime,
Count nothing criminal that works thy will. Hut lo,
We're hedged about; scant room is left for our designs. 565

Now must the attack be made where least suspicion wakes
The least resistance. Now Medea, on! and do
JAnd dare thine utmost, yea, beyond thine utmost power!

[To the Nurse.]
Do thou, my faithful nurse, the comrade of my grief,
And all the devious wanderings of my checkered course,
Assist me now in these my plans. There is a robe,
The glory of our Colchian realm, the precious gift 570

Of Phoebus' self to king Aeetes as a proof
Of fatherhood; a gleaming circlet, too, all wrought
With threads of gold, the yellow gold bespangled o'er
With gems, a fitting crown to deck a princess' head.
These treasures let Medea's children bear as gifts 575

To Jason's bride. But first infuse them with the power
Of magic, and invoke the aid of Hecate;
The woe-producing sacrifices then prepare,
And let the sacred flames through all our courts resound.

Chorus: No force of flame or raging gale,

Or whizzing bolt so fearful is, 580

As when a wife, by her lord betrayed,
Burns hot with hate.

Not such a force is Auster's blast,
When he marshals forth the wintry storms;
Nor Hister's headlong rushing stream,
Which, wrecking bridges in its course, 585

Pours reckless on;

Nor yet the Rhone, whose current strong
Beats back the sea; nor when the snows,

I

Medea ioi

Beneath the lengthening days of spring

And the sun's warm rays, melt down in streams

From Haemus' top. 590

Blind is the rage of passion's fire,
Will not be governed, brooks no reins,
And scoffs at death; nay, hostile swords
It gladly courts.

Spare, O ye gods, be merciful, 595

That lie who tamed the sea may live.
But much we fear, for the lord of the deep
Is wroth that his realm of the second lot
Should be subdued.

The thoughtless youth who dared to drive
His father's sacred chariot,

Was by those fires, which o'er the heavens 600

He scattered in his mad career,
Himself consumed.

The beaten path has never proved
The way of danger. Walk ye then
Where your forefathers safely trod,

And keep great nature's holy laws 605

Inviolate.

Whoever dipped the famous oars
( )f that bold bark in the rushing sea;
Whoe'er despoiled old Pelion
Of the thick, dark shade of his sacred groves;
Whoever dared the clashing rocks, 610

And, after countless perils passed,
His vessel moored on a barbarous shore,
Hoping to fare on his homeward way
The master of the golden fleece,

All by a fearful end appeased 615

The offended sea.

First Tiphys, tamer of the deep,
Abandoned to an untrained hand
His vessel's helm. On a foreign shore,
Far from his native land he died;

ioj The Trac i i>u s ok Si-: neca

And now within a common tomb, 620

'Mi. 1st unknown ghosts, be lies at rest.
In wrathful memory <>t" her king
Losl on the sea, did Aulis then

Within her sluggish harbor hold
The im]iatirnt ships.

Then he, the tuneful Muse's son, 625

At whose Sweet strains the streams stood still,
The winds were silent, and the birds,
Their songs forgotten, flocked to him,'
The whole wood following after- he,
Over the Thracian fields was hurled 630

In scattered fragments; but his head
Down Hebrus' grieving stream was borne.
The well-remembered Styx he reached,
And Tartarus, whence ne'er again
Would he return.

The winged sons of Boreas

Alcides slew, and Neptune's son 635

Who in a thousand changing forms

Could clothe himself. But after peace

On land and sea had been proclaimed,

And after savage Pluto's realm

Had been revealed to mortal eyes,

Then did Alcides' self, alive,

On burning Oeta's top lie down,

And give his body to the flames; 640

Tor sore distressed was he, consumed
> By Deianira's deadly gift,
k The double blood.

A savage boar Ancaeus slew;

Thou, Meleager, impiously

Thy mother's brother in wrath didst slay,

And by that angry mother's hand 645

Didst die. All these deserved their death.

But for what crime did Hylas die,

A tender lad whom Hercules

1 Reading, cut.

Medea 103

Long time but vainly sought ? For he,
'Mid waters safe was done to death.
Go then, and fearlessly the deep

Plow with your daring ships; but fear 650

The peaceful pools.

Idmon, though well be knew the fates,
A serpent slew on Afric sands;
And Mopsus, to all others true,

False to himself, died far from Thebes. 655

If he with truth the future sang,
Then Nauplius, who strove to wreck
The Argive ships by lying fires,
Shall headlong fall into the sea.

And for his father's daring crime 660

Shall Ajax, that Oileus' son,
Make full atonement, perishing
'Midst flame and flood.1

And thou, Admctus' faithful mate,
Shalt2 for thy husband pay thy life,
Redeeming his from death. But he,
\Vbo bade the first ship sail in quest 665

Of the golden spoil, King Pelias,
Seethed in a boiling cauldron, swam
'Mid those restricted waves. Enough,
O gods, have ye avenged the sea:
Spare him, we pray, who did but go
On ordered ways.

ACT IV

Nurse [alone): My spirit trembles, for I feel the near approach 670

Of some unseen disaster. Swiftly grows her grief,
/ Its own fires kindling; and again her passion's force
Hath leaped to life. I oft have seen her, with the fit
Of inspiration in her soul, confront the gods
And force the very heavens to her will. But now,
A monstrous deed, of greater moment far than these, 675

■ Reading, with period after pro/undum and after Oileus.
' Reading, impendes.

104 The Tragedies of Seneca

Miilca is preparing. For, but now, did she

Willi step of ftvn/.v hurry olT unlil she readied

Her stricken home. There, in her chamber, all her stores
Of magic wonders are revealed; once more she views
The things herself hath held in fear these many years,
Unloosing one by one her ministers of ill,
Occult, unspeakable, and wrapt in mystery;
And, grasping with her hand the sacred altar-horn, 680

With prayers, she straightly summons all destructive powers,
The creatures bred in Libya's sands, and on the peaks
( >f frigid Taurus, clad in everlasting snows.
Obedient to her potent charms, the scaly brood 685

Of serpents leave their darksome lairs and swarm to her;
One savage creature rolls his monstrous length along,
And darts his forked tongue with its envenomed sting,
Death-dealing; at the charming sound he stops amazed,
And fold on fold his body writhes in nerveless coils. 690

— -"But these are petty ills; unworthy of my hand,"

She cries, "are such weak, earth-born weapons. Potent charms

Are bred in heaven. Now, now 'tis time to summon powers

Transcending common magic. Down I'll draw from heaven

That serpent huge whose body lies athwart the sky 695

Like some great ocean stream, in whose constricting folds

The greater and the lesser Bears are held enthralled,

The greater set as guide for Grecian ships, the less

For Sidon's mariners! Let Ophiuchus loose

His hand and pour forth venom from his captive thrall !

And let the Python huge, that dared to rear its head 700

Against the heavenly twins, be present at my prayer!

Let Hydra's writhing heads, which by Alcides' hand

Were severed, all return to life and give me aid!

Thou too be near and leave thy ancient Colchian home,

Thou watchful dragon, to whose eyes the first sleep came

In answer to my incantations."

When she thus 705

Had summoned all the serpent brood, she cast her store
Of baleful herbs together; all the poisons brewed
Amid the rocky caves of trackless Eryx; plants
That flourish on the snowy peaks of Caucasus,

Medea 105

Whose crags were spattered with Prometheus' gore;

the herbs 710

Within whose deadly juice the Arab dips his darts,
And the quiver-bearing Mcde and fleeing Parthian;
Those potent juices, too, which, near the shivering pole,
The Suabian chieftains gather in Hyrcanian groves.
The seasons, too, have paid their tribute to her stores:
Whatever earth produces in the nesting time,
And when the stiff'ning hand of winter's frost has stripped 715
The glory from the trees and fettered all the land
With icy bonds; whatever flow'ring plant conceals
Destruction in its bloom, or in its twisted roots
Distils the juice of death, she gathers to her use.
These pestilential herbs Haemonian Athos gave; 720

And these on lofty Pindus grew; a bloody knife
Clipped off these slender leaves on Macedonia's heights;
Still others grew beside the Tigris, whirling on
His flood to meet the sea; the Danube nourished some;
These grew on bright gem-starred Hydaspes' tepid stream; 725
And these the Baetis bore, which gave the land its name,
Displacing with its langourous tide, the western sea.
These felt the knife when early dawn begins to break;
The fruit of these was cut in midnight's gloomy hour;
This fatal crop was reaped with sickle magic-edged. 730

These deadly, potent herbs she takes and sprinkles o'er
With serpent vernom, mixing all; and in the broth
She mingles unclean birds: a wailing screech owl's heart,
A ghastly vampire's vitals torn from living flesh.
Her magic poisons all she ranges for her use. 735

The ravening power of hidden fire is held in these,
I While deep in others lurks the numbing chill of frost.
Now magic runes she adds more potent far.

But lo !
Her voice resounds! and, as with maddened step she comes,
She chants her charms, while heaven and earth convulsive rock.
[Enter Medea, chanting her incantations.]
Medea: I supplicate the silent throng, and you, the gods 740

Of death's sad rites, and groping chaos, and the home
Of gloomy Pluto, and the black abyss of death

io6 Titf. Tragedies of Seneca

Girl by the hanks of Tartarus! Yc storied shades,

Your torments leave and haste t<> grace the festival

\i Hymen's call I Let stop the whirling wheel that holds

Ixion's limhs and let him tread Corinthian ground;

Let Tantalus unfrighted drink Pircne's stream. 745

On Green's stock alone let heavier torments fall,

And backward o'er the rocks let Sisyphus be hurled.

You too, the seed of Danaiis, whose fruitless toil

The ever-empty urns deride, I summon you;

This day requires your helping hands. Thou radiant moon, 750

Night's glorious orb, my supplications hear and come

To aid; put on thy sternest guise, thou goddess dread

Of triple form! Full oft have I with flowing locks,

And feet unsandaled, wandered through thy darkling groves

And by thy inspiration summoned forth the rain

From cloudless skies; the heaving seas have I subdued, 755

And sent the vanquished waves to ocean's lowest depths.

At my command the sun and stars together shine,

The heavenly law reversed; while in the Arctic sea

The Bears have plunged. The seasons, too, obey my will:

I've made the burning summer blossom as the spring, 760

And hoary winter autumn's golden harvests bear.

The Phasis sends his swirling waves to seek their source,

And Ister, flowing to the sea with many mouths,

His eager water checks and sluggish rolls along.

The billows roar, the mad sea rages, though the winds 765

All silent lie. At my command primeval groves

Have lost their shade;1 the sun, abandoning2 the day,

Has stood in middle heaven; while falling Hyades

Attest my charms.

But now thy sacred hour is come, 770

l_ O Phoebe. Thine these bonds with bloody hand entwined
With ninefold serpent coils; these cords I offer thee,
Which on his hybrid limbs Typhoeus bore, who shook
The throne of Jove. This vessel holds the dying blood
Of Nessus, faithless porter of Alcides' bride. 775

Here are the ashes of the pyre on Oeta's top

1 Reading, with period after meae.

' Reading, relicto, and substituting comma for semicolon.

Medea 107

[Which drank the poisoned blood of dying Hercules;
And here the fatal billet that Althaea burned
In vengeance on her son. These plumes the Harpies left 780
Within their caverned lair when Zetes drove them forth;
And these the feathers of that vile Stymphalian bird
Which arrows, dipped in Lerna's deadly poison, pierced.

But lo! mine altar fires resound!

While in the tripod's answering voice 785

Behold the present deity!

I see the car of Trivia,

Not full and clear as when she drives

The livelong night to meet the dawn;

But with a baleful, lurid glare,

As, harried by Thessalian cries, 790

She holds a more restricted course.

Send such uncanny light abroad!

Fill mortals with a dread unknown;

And let our Corinth's priceless bronze

Resound, Dictynna, for thy aid! 795

To thee a solemn sacrifice

On bloody altar do we pay!

To thee, snatched from the mournful tomb,

The blazing torch nocturnal burns;

On thee I call with tossing head, 800

And many a frantic gesture make;

Corpselike upon the bier I lie,

My hair with priestly fillet bound;

Before thy awful shrine is waved

The branch in Stygian waters dipped.
And, calling on thy name, with gleaming shoulders bared, 805
Like Bacchus' mad adorers, will I lash my arms
With sacrificial knife. Now let my life-blood flow!
And let my hands be used to draw the deadly sword,
And learn to shed belove'd blood!

[She cuts her arm and lets the blood flow upon the altar.]
Behold, self-stricken have I poured the sacrifice! 810

But if too oft upon thy name I call,

I pray forgive this importunity!

The cause, O Hecate, of all my prayers

10S The Tragedies of Seneca

Is ever Jason; this my constant care. 815

[To attendants.]
Take now Crettsa'a bridal robe, and Bteep in these,
My potent drugs; and when she dons the dinging folds,
I. it subtle flames go stealing through her inmost heart.
^The fire that in this tawny golden circlet lurks 820

Prometheus gave, who, for his daring heavenly theft
In human aid, endured an ever-living death.
'Twas Vulcan showed the fires concealed in sulphur's veins; 825
While from my brother Phaethon I gained a flame
That never dies; I have preserved Chimera's breath,
And that fierce heat that parched the fiery, brazen bull
Of Colchis. These dread fires commingled with the gall 830

Of dire Medusa have I bidden keep the power

Of lurking evil. Now, O Hecate,

Give added force to these my deadly gifts.

And strictly guard the hidden seeds of flame.

Let them deceive the sight, endure the touch; 835

But through her veins let burning fever run;

In fervent heat consume her very bones,

And let her fiercely blazing locks outshine

Her marriage torches! Lo, my prayer is heard:

Thrice have replied the hounds of Hecate, 840

And she has shown her baleful, gleaming fires.

Now all is ready: hither call my sons,

And let them bear these presents to the bride.
[Enter sons.]

Go, go, my sons, of hapless mother born, 845

And win with costly gifts and many prayers

The favor of the queen, your father's wife.

Begone, but quick your homeward way retrace,

That I may fold you in a last embrace.
[Exeunt sons toward the palace, Medea in the opposite direction.]

Chorus: Where hastes this Bacchic fury now,

All passion-swept ? what evil deed 850

Does her unbridled rage prepare ?
Her features are congealed with rage,
And with a queenly bearing, grand

>s

Medea 109

But terrible, she sets herself 855

Against e'en Creon's royal power.

An exile who would deem her nowVT

Her cheeks anon with anger flush,

And now a deadly pallor show;

Each feeling quick succeeds to each, 860

While all the passions of her heart

Her changing aspect testifies.

She wanders restless here and there,

As a tigress, of her young bereft,

In frantic grief the jungle scours. 865

Medea knows not how in check

To hold her wrath nor yet her love;

If love and wrath make common cause,

What dire results will come ?

When will this scourge of Corinth leave 870

Our Grecian shores for Colchis' strand,

And free our kingdom from its fear?
7 Now, Phoebus, hasten on thy course

With no retarding rein. 875

Let friendly darkness quickly veil the light,
And this dread day be buried deep in night.

ACT V

Messenger [comes running in from the direction of the palace]: L<>,
all is lost! the kingdom totters from its base!

The daughter and the father lie in common dust ! 880

Chorus: By what snare taken ?

l/< ssenger: By gifts, the common snare of kings.

Chorus: What harm could lurk in them ?
Messenger: In equal doubt I stand;

And, though my eyes proclaim the dreadful deed is done,

I scarce can trust their witness.
Chorus: What the mode of death ?

Messenger: Devouring flames consume the palace at the will 885

Of her who sent them; there complete destruction reigns,

While men do tremble for the very city's doom.
Chorus: Let water quench the fire.
Messenger: Nay here is added wonder:

no The Tragedies of Seneca

The copious streams of water feed the deadly Barnes;
And opposition only fans their fiery rage

To whiter Ileal. The very bulwarks feel their ]xnver. 890

[Medea enters in time to hear thai her magic has been successful.]

Nttrse [to Medea]: Oh, haste thee, leave this land of Greece, in headlong
flight !

Medea: Thou bid'st me speed my flight ? Nay rather, had I fled,
I should return for this. Strange bridal rites I see!
[Absorbed in her men reflections.]
j.\£i\Vhy dost thou falter, O my soul? 'Tis well begun; 895

[But still how small a portion of thy just revenge
Is that which gives thee present joy? Not yet has love
Been banished from thy maddened heart if 'tis enough
That Jason widowed be. Pursue thy vengeful quest
To acts as yet unknown, and steel thyself for these.
Away with every thought and fear of God and man; 900

.Too lightly falls the rod that pious hands upbear.

^Give passion fullest sway; exhaust thy ancient powers;
And let the worst thou yet hast done be innocent
Beside thy present deeds. Come, let them know how slight
Were those thy crimes already done; mere training they 905
For greater deeds. For what could hands untrained in crime
Accomplish ? Or what mattered maiden rage ? But now,
I am Medea; in the bitter school of woe

My powers have ripened. 910

[In an ecstacy of madness.}

Oh, the bliss of memory!
My infant brother slain, his limbs asunder rent,
My royal father spoiled of his ancestral realm,
And Pelias' guiltless daughters lured to slay their sire !
But here I must not rest; no untrained hand I bring 915

To execute my deeds. But now, by what approach
Or by what weapon wilt thou threat the treacherous foe ?
Deep hidden in my secret heart have I conceived
A purpose which I dare not utter. Oh, I fear

^That in my foolish madness I have gone too far —
I would that children had been born to him of this 920

My hated rival. Still, since she hath gained his heart,
His children too are hers —

Medea hi

That punishment would be most fitting and deserved.

Yes, now I see the final deed of crime, and thou,

My soul, must face it. You, who once were called my sons,

Must pay the penalty of these your father's crimes — 925

S My heart with horror melts, a numbing chill pervades
My limbs, and all my soul is filled with sinking fear.
Now wrath gives place, and, heedless of my husband's sins,
The tender mother-instinct quite possesses me.
And could I shed my helpless children's blood ? Not so,

\ Oh, say not so, my maddened heart ! Far from my hand 930
And thought be that unnamcable and hideous deed!
What sin have they that shedding of their wretched blood
Would wash away ?

Their sin — that Jason is their sire,
And, deeper guilt, that I have borne them. Let them die;
They are not mine. Nay, nay! they are my own, my sons,
And with no spot of guilt. Full innocent they are, 935

'Tis true — my brother, too, was innocent. O soul,
Why dost thou hesitate ? Why flow these streaming tears,
While with contending thoughts my wavering heart is torn ?
As when conflicting winds contend in stubborn strife,
And waves, to stormy waves opposed, the sea invade}} 940

And to their lowest sands the briny waters boil;
With such a storm my heart is tossed. Hate conquers love,
And love puts impious hate to flight. Oh, yield thee, grief,
To love ! Then come, my sons, sole comfort of my heart, 945
Come, cling within your mother's close embrace. Unharmed
Your sire may keep you, while your mother holds you too.

[Embraces her sons.]
But flight and exile drive me forth! And even now
My children must be torn away with tears and cries.
Then let them die to Jason since they're lost to me. 950

Once more has hate resumed her sway, and passion's fire
Is hot within my soul. Now fury, as of yore,
Reseeks her own. Lead on, I follow to the end!
I would that I had borne twice seven sons, the boast 955

Of Niobe! But all too barren have I been.
Still will my two sufficient be to satisfy
My brother and my sire.

S

ii2 T ii k Tragedies of Seneca

[Sees (/ vision <>j the furies and her brother's ghost.]
But whither hastes that throng
Of furies? What their quest? What mean their brandished

fires ?
Whom threats this hellish host with horrid, bloody brands? 960
1 hear the writhing lash resound of serpents huge.

Whom Seeks Megaera with her deadly torch ? Whose shade
Comes gibbering dure with scattered limbs ? It is my brother!
Revenue he seeks, and \w will granl liis quest Then come,
Within my heart plunge all your torches, rend me, burn; 965
For lo, my bosom open to your fury's stroke.

0 brother, bid these vengeful goddesses depart
And go in peace down to the lowest shades of hell.
And do thou leave me to myself, and let this hand

That slew thee with the sword now offer sacrifice 970

Unto thy shade.

[Slays her first son.]
What sudden uproar meets my ear?
'Tis Corinth's citizens on my destruction bent.
Unto the palace roof I'll mount and there complete
This bloody sacrifice.

[To her remaining son.]

Do thou come hence with me.
But thee, poor senseless corse, within mine arms I'll bear. 975
Now gird thyself, my heart, with strength. Nor must this deed
Lose all its just renown because in secret done;
But to the public eye my hand must be approved.
Jason [in the street below shouting to citizens]: Ho, all ye loyal sons,
who mourn the death of kings!
Come, let us seize the worker of this hideous crime. 980

Now ply your arms and raze her palace to the ground.
Medea [appearing on the housetop with her two sons]: Now, now have
I regained my regal state, my sire,
My brother! Once again the Colchians hold the spoil
Of precious gold! And by the magic of this hour

1 am a maid once more. O heavenly powers, appeased

At length ! O festal hour ! O nuptial day ! On, on ! 985

Accomplished is the guilt, but not the recompense.
Complete the task while yet thy hands are strong to act!

Medea i i .^

Why dost thou linger still ? why dost thou hesitate

Upon the threshold of the deed ? Thou canst perform it.

Now wrath has died within me, and my soul is filled
.\Yith shame and deep remorse. Ah me, what have I done,

Wretch that I am ? Wretch that thou art, well mayst thou

mourn, 990

For thou hast done it !

At that thought delirious joy

O'ermasters me and fills my heart which fain would grieve.

And yet, methinks, the act was almost meaningless,

Since Jason saw it not; for naught has been performed

If to his grief be added not the woe of sight.
Jason [discovering her]: Lo, there she stands upon the lofty battlements! 995

Bring torches! fire the house, that she may fall ensnared

By those devices she herself hath planned.
Medea [derisively]: Not so,

But rather build a lofty pyre for these thy sons;

Their funeral rites prepare. Already for thy bride

And father have I done the service due the dead;

For in their ruined palace have I buried them.

One son of thine has met his doom; and this shall die 1000

Before his father's face.
Jason: By all the gods, and by the perils of our flight,

And by our marriage bond which I have ne'er lx'trayed,

I pray thee spare the boy, for he is innocent.

If aught of sin there be, 'tis mine. Myself I give

To be the victim. Take my guilty soul for his. 1005

Medea: 'Tis for thy prayers and tears I draw, not sheathe the sword.

Go now, and take thee maids for wives, thou faithless one;

Abandon and betray the mother of thy sons.
Jason: And yet, I pray thee, let one sacrifice atone.
Medea: If in the blood of one my passion could be quenched,

No vengeance had it sought. Though both my sons I slay, 1010

The number still is all too small to satisfy

My boundless grief.
Jason: Then finish what thou hast begun —

I ask no more — and grant at least that no delay

Prolong my helpless agony. 1015

Medea: Now hasten not,

' ' I

The Tragedies of Seneca

I020

Relentless passion, but enjoy a slow revenge.

This day is in ihy hands; its fertile hours employ.
J .'/;; Oh, takr my life, thou heartless one.
Medea: Thou bid'st me pity —

Well ! [Slays the second child,] -'lis done !

No more atonement, passion, can 1 offer thee.

Now hither lift thy tearful eyes ungrateful one.

Dost recognize thy wife ? 'Twas thus of old I fled.

The heavens themselves provide me with a safe retreat.
[A chariot drawn by dragons appears in the air.]

Twin serpents bow their necks submissive to the yoke.

Now, father, take thy sons; while I, upon my car,

With winded speed am borne aloft through realms of air.
[Mounts her car and is borne away.]
Jason [calling ajter her]: Speed on through realms of air that mortals never
see:

But, witness heaven, where thou art gone no gods can be !

1025

HERCULES FURENS

HERCULES FURENS

DRAMATIS PERSONAE

hercules . Son of Jupiter and Alcmcna, but the reputed son of Amphit-
ryon.
Juno . . . Sister and wife of Jupiter, and queen of heaven.
Amphitryon Husband of Alcmena.
Theseus . . King of Athens and friend of Hercules.

Lycus . . . The usurping king of Thebes, who has, prior to the opening
of the play, slain king Creon in battle.

Megora . . Wife of Hercules and daughter of Creon.

Chorus . . Of Thebans.

The scene is in the princely palace of Hercules at Thebes, on the
j day of the return of the hero from the lower world.

The jealous wrath oj Juno, working through Eurysthcus, has imposed
twelve mighty and destructive tasks on Hercules, her hated stepson. But
these, even to the last and worst, the bringing of Cerberus to the upper world,
he has triumphantly accomplished. Abandoning her plan oj crushing him by
toils like these, she will turn his hand against himself, and so accomplish
his destruction. Upon the day oj his return jrom hell, she brings a madness
on him, and so precipitates the tragedy which forms the action oj the play.

ACT I

Juno [in soliloquy]: Lo I, the sister of the Thunderer

(For, save this name alone, I've nothing more),
Have left my lord, so often false to me,
Have left, in widowhood, the realms of heaven,
And, banished from the sky, have given place
Unto my hated rivals. Now must earth 5

Be my abode, while they in heaven reign.
Behold, the Bear, far in the frozen north,
Is set on high to guide the Argive ships;
Behold, in southern skies, where days grow long
, Beneath the warmth of spring, the Bull shines bright,
1 Who once the Tyrian Europa bore.
There gleam the wandering Atlantides, 10

A fearful band for ships and sea alike;
And yonder fierce Orion with his sword
The very gods affrights; his stars, as well,
The golden Perseus boasts; while Leda's sons
With shining banners glitter in the sky;

And they, Latona's children, for whose birth 15

The floating land stood firm. And not alone
Have Bacchus and his mother gained the heavens;
But, that the infamy may be complete,
The skies must needs the Cretan maiden's crown
Endure. But these are ancient wrongs I tell:
One wild and baneful land alone is full

Of shameless mistresses — the Theban land, 20

Which all too oft has me a stepdame made.
And though Alcmena scale the heights of heaven,
And hold my place, victorious over me;
And though her son his promised star obtain
(Whose hateful gelling cost the world a day,
i Since Phoebus, bidden to hold his shining car 25

In Ocean hid, with tardy light shone forth
From eastern seas): still ever in my heart
Shall hate relentless dwell. Undying wrath

119

i2o The Tragedies o* Seneca

My outraged soul .shall kindle; and my grii i",

All hope of truce denying; endless wars

Shall fiercely wage. Hut what avail my wars? 30

Whatever savage things the hurtful earth,

The sea <>r air produce, terrific sha]

Fierce, pestilential, horrible, and dire.

The power of all is broken and subdued.

AlddeS towns above and thrives on woe;

My wrath is his delight, and to his praise

He turns my deadly hate. While I, too stern, 35

Impose his dreadful tasks, 1 do but prove

His origin, and opportunity

For glorious achievement render him.

Where Thoebus with bis neighboring torch illumes

The east and western shores of Aethiop's land,

Alcides' dauntless courage is adored;

While all the world considers him a god.

And now have I no in more to send; 40

And less his toil to do the tasks I bid,

Than mine to set them. Joyfully he hears

My several commands. But what dire tasks

The tyrant may conceive can harm that youth

Impetuous? His very arms, forsooth,

Are torn from monsters which he feared — and slew; 45

With spoils of lion and of hydra armed,

He walks abroad. Nor are the lands of earth

Enough for him: behold, the doors of Dis

Are burst, and to the upper world he brings

The booty taken from the vanquished king.

'Tis not enough that he returns alive:

The law that binds the shades is set at naught.

Myself I saw him, when he had o'ercome 50

The king of hades and escaped the night

Of that deep underworld, display to Jove

The spoils of Dis. But why does he not lead,

Oppressed and overcome, the king himself

Who gained by lot an equal realm with Jove ?

Why rules he not in conquered Erebus ?

Whybares he not the Styx ? His upward way

Hercules Furens i2j

From deepest hell to earth he has retraced, 55

And all the sacred mysteries of death

Lie open to the world. Not yet content,

And proud that he has burst the bars of night,

He triumphs over me, and, insolent,

He leads through all the cities of the land

That gruesome dog of hell. I saw, myself,

The daylight pale at sight of Cerberus, 60

The sun start in affright. Nay, even I

Was struck with terror; and, as I beheld

That triple -headed beast in bondage led,

I trembled at the thought that 'twas my will.

But all too trivial ills do I lament;

My fears must be aroused for heaven itself,

Lest he who overcame the lowest depths

Should scale the very skies, and from his sire 65

His scepter snatch away. Nor to the stars

Will he, like Bacchus, by an easy path

Ascend; through ruin would he make his way,

And wish to rule an empty universe.

He is inflamed with pride of tested strength; s

But he has learned by Karing up the heavens,

That by his power the heavens can be subdued. 70

Upon his head he bore the universe,

Nor did his shoulders bend beneath the weight

Of that stupendous mass; the vault of heaven

11 his neck was poised, and steadily
1 1* bore the expanse of sky, the shining stars;
And even me, down pressing, he endured.
1 1' -eeks a place among the immortal gods.
Then up, arouse thee to destructive wrath, 75

Destroy him meditating plans so great.
Meet him in single strife; with thine own hands
Asunder rend him. Why thy mighty hate
Dost thou consign to others to appease ?
Enough of monsters; let Eurysthcus rest,
All weary with imposing thy commands.
Though thou shouldst open wide Sicilia's vaults,
And free the Titans who essayed to wrench 80

122 The Tragedies of Seneca

The scepter from the hand <>f mighty Jove;
Though the Doric isle, which trembles with affright
Whene'er the heaving giant turns himself,
Should ease her weight upon the monster's head;
Though in the moon another race of beasts
Should k' conceived: yet all of these, 1 know

Ahidrs conquered and will conquer still,
i Scek'st thou his match ? There is none save himself. 85

1 — - n 1 I,, - . 1111 ■■ 11 ■ u

Then set him on to war against himself;
Let furies from the lowest depths of hell
Be roused and come to aid, their flaming locks
Aglow with maddening fire, their savage hands
The horrid snaky scourges brandishing.
Go now, thou proud one, seek the seats of heaven,
And scorn the lot of men. And dost thou think, 90

O hero brave, that thou hast fled the Styx
And gloomy shades ? Here will I show thee hell;
Here will I summon up the goddess dire
Of Discord, deep in darkness thick confined
Far down below the abode of guilty souls.
A cavern huge within a mountain's hold

Is her dark prison. Her will I call forth, 95

And from the deepest realms of Dis bring up
Whate'er thou hast escaped: base Crime shall come;
Impiety that fiercely stains its hands
In kindred blood; the shape of Error too,
And Fury ever armed against itself.
This, this assistance shall my grief employ.
Come then, ye ever-faithful slaves of Dis, 100

Begin your task. Shake high the blazing torch;
And let Megaera lead her dreadful band
Of sisters viperous. With deadly hand
Let her from off the blazing funeral pyre
A burning brand snatch up. Now to your task;
Thus seek revenge for violate fLStyx:

• Distract his heart with madness; let his soul 105

More fiercely burn than that hot fire which glows
^On Aetna's forge. But first, that Hercules
'May be to madness driven, smitten through^/

Hercules Furens 123

With mighty passion, I must be insane.

Why rav'st thou not, O Juno ? Me, Oh, me, no

Ye sisters, first of sanity deprive,

That something worthy of a stepdame's wrath

I may prepare. Let all my hate be changed

To favor. Now I pray that he may come

To earth again, and see his sons unharmed;

May he return with all his old-time strength.

Now have I found a day when Hercules

May help me with his strength that I deplore. 1 15

Now let him equally o'ercome himself

And nic; and let him, late escaped from death,

Desire to die. Now let it profit me

That he is born of Jove. I'll stand by him

And nicely poise his hand, that so his darts

May with more deadly aim be hurled. I'll guide

The madman's arms. And so at last I help 120

Alcides in his wars. The crime complete,

Then let his father to the heavens admit

Those guilty hands. Now must the attack begin.

The day is breaking, and with saffron light

The rising sun dispels the gloom of night.

Chorus: Now scattered and with paling light 125

The stars gleam in the sinking west;
Now vanquished night collects her fires,
Whose shining band at the day's return
The star of morning drives away.
High up in the frozen northern sky,
^JThe Arcadian Bears with their seven-fold stars, 130

Their course completed, hail the dawn.
Now borne along by his azure steeds
The sun looks forth from Oeta's ridge;
With whose light suffused, the clustering grapes
In the vineyards to Thcban Bacchus dear
Flush rosy red. The waning moon 135

Fades out of sight, to return again.
Hard Toil awakens, at whose knock
The doors of men are opened wide,

1 24 The Tragedies of Seneca

And daily cans resumed.

The shepherd Bends his Bock afield,

And plucks, himself, the tender grass 140

Still sparkling with the frosty rime.

The young bull sports among the fil his

At liberty; the dams refill

Their empty udders; s]M>rtiw kids

Leap lightly o'er the tender grass 145

In aimless course. On the topmost branch

The Thracian Philomela sings

Her strident song, and near her nest

Of chattering young she spreads her wings

To the morning sun; while all around 150

The throng of birds with united songs

Announce the day.

The daring sailor spreads his sails

To the freshening wind, as the breezes fill

Their flapping folds. From wave-worn rocks

The fisher leans and baits anew

His cunning hook; he feels his line 155

A-tremble with the struggling fish,

Or weighs his prize with practiced hand

And eager eye.
/ "Such are the joys of him who lives 160

> jln tranquil and unworried peace;
ft Whose pleasure is a humble house,

His own, though small; whose simple hopes

.Are in the open fields.1

But worried hopes in cities dwell,
\ And trembling fears. There some would haunt
1 The rich man's haughty vestibules,

iWait at their proud, unfeeling doors, 165

Forego their sleep. Some heap up wealth,

Though blest with boundless wealth, and gaze

In admiration at their heaps;

And yet, with all their gold, are poor.

Some strain for the applause of men,

The vulgar throng, whose fickle will

1 Reading, el in agris.

/•I
Ul

Hercules Furens 125

Is shifting as the sea, and swell 170

'With empty pride. The noisy marl

Still others claim, who meanly deal

In quarrelsome suits, and profit make

Of wrath and empty words.

Few know untroubled peace, the men

Who, heeding time's swift flight, hold fast 175

The years that never will return.

While fate permits, live happily;

For life runs on with rapid pace,

And with headlong speed the year's swift wheel 180

With wingdd hours is turned.

The cruel sisters urge their task,

Nor backward turn the threads of life.

But the race of men is hurried on

To meet the quick approaching fates,

Uncertain of their own.

Of our own will we haste to cross 185

The Stygian waves. Thou, Hercules,

With heart too brave, before thy time
N Didst see the grieving shades. The fates

In pre-established order come;

And none may stay when they command,

None may put off the appointed day. 190

The swiftly whirling urn of fate

Contains all mortal men.

Let glory then to many lands

Proclaim some names, and chattering fame

Through every city sing their praise,

And raise them to the stars. Sublime 195

In triumph let another ride.
C\Me let my native land conceal

Within a safe and humble home.

'Tis unambitious souls who come

To hoary -headed age at last.

1 f humble, still the lot is sure
"AOf lowly homes. Souls lifted high,

For this to greater depths must fall. (
But see, sad Megara comes with flowing-hair,

200

126 The Tragedies of Senkca

Her little children closely pressing round;
And with her, with the tardy step of age,
The sire of Hercules, Amphitryon.

ACT II

ra: 0 mighty ruler <>f Olympus' heights, 205

Thou judge of all the world, now set at length
A limit to my cans, and make an end
Of my disasters. No untroubled day
Doth dawn for me; but one misfortune's end
Marks but the starting-point of future woes.
I ash foes are ready for my Hercules

Straightway on his return; ere he can reach 210

His happy home, another warfare bids
That he set forth again. No time for rest
Is given, save while he waits a fresh command.
'Twas ever thus: from earliest infancy
Unfriendly Juno follows on his track.
Was e'en his cradle free from her assaults?
He conquered monsters ere he learned to know 215

What monsters were. Two crested serpents huge
Against him reared their heads; the dauntless child
Crawled forth to meet them, and, with placid gaze
Intently fixed upon their fiery eyes,

With fearless look he raised their close-coiled folds, 220

And crushed their swollen necks with tender hand.
And thus he practiced for the hydra's death.
He caught the nimble stag of Maenalus,
Its beauteous head adorned with horns of gold.
The lion, terror of Nemean woods,

Groaned out his life beneath the mighty arms 225

Of Hercules. Why should I call to mind
The stables dire of that Bistonian herd,
And the king as food to his own horses given ?
The rough Maenalian boar, which, from his lair
On Erymanthus' thickly wooded heights,
Filled all the groves of Arcady with dread ?
Or that fell Cretan bull whose terror filled 230

A hundred towns ? Among his herds remote,

Hercules Furens 127

The three-formed shepherd by Tartcssus' shore
Was slain, and from the farthest west his herds
Were driven as booty. Now Cithaeron feeds
The cattle once to Ocean known. Again,
When bidden to penetrate the sultry zone 235

Of summer's burning sun, those scorched realms
Winch midday parches with its piercing rays,
He clove the ponderous mountain barriers,
And made a pathway for the rushing sea.
He next assailed the rich Hesperides,

And bore therefrom the watchful dragon's spoil 240

Of golden fruit. Then Lerna's savage beast,
An evil creature constantly renewed,
Did he not overcome by fire at last,
And teach it how to die ? Did he not seek
Within the clouds the dire Stymphalian birds,
Whose spreading wings were wont to obscure the day ?
He was not conquered by the maiden queen 245

"Who ruled the Amazons and ever kept
Her couch in virgin state. Nor did his hands,
Courageous to attempt all glorious deeds,
Disdain to cleanse the vile Augean stalls.
But what avail these toils ? For he alone
Cannot enjoy the world he saved. And now
The world perceives the giver of its peace 250

Is absent from its sight. Now prosperous crime
Is called by virtue's name; good men obey
The guilty, might is counted right, and fear
O'ershadows law. Before my eyes I saw
The sons who dared defend their father's throne
Fall dead beneath the tyrant's murderous hand; 255

I saw King Creon's self by death o'ercome,
The latest son of Cadmus' noble line ;
And with his head the royal diadem
Was reft away. Who now could weep enough
For Thebes? Proud land and mother of the gods,
What master fears she now, she, from whose fields 260

And fertile bosom sprang that hand of youth
With swords all ready drawn; whose mighty walls

128 Tim Tragi: dies of Seneca

Amphion, son of Jove, once built, its stones
^Compelling by the magic of bis lyre;
Down to whose citadel no1 once alone
The father, of the gods from heaven came?

'This royal city which the immortals oft 265

Has entertained, which has divinities

Produced, and (heaven forgive the boastful word)

Perchance will yel produce, is now oppressed

Beneath a shameful yoke. O royal race

Of Cadmus, noble state Amphion ruled,

Low hast thou fallen indeed! Dost thou obey

A low born exile, driven from his land 270

And yet oppressing ours ? And now, alas,

1 le, who on land and sea doth punish crime,

Who breaks all cruel rule with righteous hand,

Far off obeys another, and himself

Endures those ills from which he others saved;

And Lycus rules the Thebes of Hercules!

But not for long; he soon will come again, 275

And punish all the wrongs; he suddenly

Will to the upper world emerge; a way

He'll find — or make. Oh, come unharmed, I pray;

As victor come at last unto thy home

Which now in ruins lies. O husband, come,

With thy strong hand break through the shades of hell. 280

And if no way is open, if the road

Is closely barred, then rend the earth and come;

And all that lies in keep of dismal night

Bring forth with thee. As once, through riven hills

A passage seeking for a headlong stream,

Thou stood'st, and, with thy strength gigantic cleft, 285

The vale of Tempe opened wide; as then,

Impelled by might of thy resistless breast,

The mountains fell away from either side,

And through the broken masses poured the stream

Of Thessaly along a channel new:

So now to parents, children, native land,

A passage burst. And bring away with thee 290

The shapes of death, and all that greedy time

Hercules Furens

129

Through countless rounds of years has hidden away;

Those nations who have drunk forgetfulness,

Drive out before thee, fearful of the light.

The spoils are all unworthy of thy fame,

If thou shouldst bring from hades only that 295

Which was commanded. But too bold my words,

And thoughtless of my present lot I speak.

Oh, when will come at last that day for me

When I shall clasp my husband once again,

And weep no more his long-delayed return,

His long forgetfulness of me ? To thee,

O ruler of the gods, a hundred bulls

Shall bleed; to thee, thou goddess of the fruits, 300

Thy secret rites I'll pay: for thee shall blaze

Upon Eleusin's shrine the sacred torch

In celebration of thy mysteries.

Then shall I think my brothers' lives restored,

My father once again upon his throne. 305

But if some power more potent than thine own

Holds thee in durance, we shall come to thee.

Return in safety and protect us all,

Or drag us down with thee. This wilt thou do;

No god will e'er our broken fortunes mend.
Amphitr.: O ally of my house, with wifely faith

Preserving for the great -souled Hercules 310

His couch and children, be of better mind.

Take heart again, for surely he will come,

Increased in fame by this, as is his wont

By other tasks.
Megara: What wretched men desire

They readily believe.
Amphitryon: Nay, what they fear

I They think can never be escaped or borne. 315

For fear is prone to see the darker side.
.\frgara: Submerged, deep buried, crushed beneath the world,

What chance has he to reach the upper realms ?
Amphitr.: The same he had, when, through the arid plain,

And sands that billowed like the stormy sea, 320

Those twice receding, twice returning gulfs,

130 Tn b Tragedies of Seneca

ll. made hia way; when on the dangerous shoals

Of Syrtes he was wrecked, he left his ship

A helpless hulk and crossed the sea on foot.
Megara: Unjust is fortune, rarely does she spare 325

Tin.- bravest souls. No one with safety long

Can brave so frequent perils; he who oft

Has shunned misfortune meets at last his fate.

But see, with threatening looks fierce Lycus comes,

His hateful soul in hateful hearing shown, 330

And bears the stolen scepter in his hand.
[Enkr Lycus.]
Lyats: The rich domain of this proud town of Thebes,

With all the fertile soil which Phocis bounds

Within its winding borders, all the land

Ismenus waters; all Cithaeron sees 335

From his high top; the narrow Isthmus, too,

Two seas asunder cleaving: all I own,

Not by prerogative of long descent,

A worthless heir. No noble ancestors,

Nor family adorned with lofty names
j Have I; but splendid valor. He who boasts 340

His noble ancestry exalts a thing

Which is not his to boast. But power usurped

Is held with anxious hands; the sword alone

Can guard it. All thou hold'st against the will

Of citizens the sword must hold for thee.

No kingdom built upon a foreign soil 345

Is safe for long. One thing alone I see

Which can our power establish — Megara,

By ties of royal marriage bound to me.

From her illustrious line my humble blood

Shall a richer hue derive. Nor do I think

That she will scorn me and refuse my suit.

But should she with a blind and stubborn soul 350

Refuse my proffered hand, my mind is fixed

To give to utter ruin all the house

Of Hercules. Will such a deed arouse

A storm of scandal and the people's hate ?

The art of ruling chiefly lies in this:

Hercules Furens 131

The power to bear the people's hate unmoved.''

Let me make trial then. Occasion smiles,

For she herself, in mourning vestments clad, 355

Stands by the altars of her guardian gods,

While near at hand Alcides' father waits.
Megara [seeing Lycus, aside]: What new outrage does yonder wretch
prepare,

The pestilent destroyer of our race ?
Lycus: O thou, who bear'st a name illustrious 360

From royal stock, with patient ear awhile
I Receive my words. If everlasting hate
\ The hearts of men should feel, if fury dire,
\ Once in the heart conceived, should never cease;

If prosperous men must ever fight to rule,

And those who fail obey because they must:

Then never-ending wars would nothing leave, 365

And all the fields would be a barren waste;

Homes would be burned, and 'neath their ashes deep

All nations of the earth would be o'erwhelmed.

The victor's profit is in peace restored,

But for the vanquished 'tis their direful need.

Come, share my throne; let us unite our wills. 370

And, as my pledge of faith, receive my hand.

But why dost thou in scornful silence wait ?
Mrgara: And dost thou think that I would touch the hand

That is besprinkled with my father's gore,

And my two brothers' blood ? Oh, sooner far

Shall day's last beams go out in eastern skies,

And dawn break in the west; sooner shall peace 375

Be made 'twixt snow and flame, and Scvlla join

Sicilia's shores with those of Italy;

A.nd sooner shall Euripus' rushing waves

Lap peacefully upon Euboea's shores.

My father and my brothers hast thou slain,

My kingflom ruined, home and native land.

What still is left ? One thing remains to me, 380

That's dearer than my father, brother, home,

And kingdom: 'tis my deadly hate of thy

That I must share this with the land at large

The Tragedies of Seneca

Is grief to mi'. For in their cause for hate

How small a share have I ? Thou, swollen with pride,
Rule <>n, and let thy soul exalt itself;

Hut know that evermore the avenging god 385

Pursues the proud of heart. Well do I know
The history of Thebes. Why need I tell
Of matrons who haw dared and suffered wrong?
Why name the double crime, the mingled names
Of husband, father, son, the opposing camps
Of brothers ? Why describe the funeral pyres ?
The haughty mother, child of Tantalus, 390

Still sits in stony grief; the mourning rock
On Phrygian Sipylus still drips with tears.
Nay, Cadmus' self, in form of serpent, still
Flees through Illyria's realm with crested head,
And leaves behind his dragging body's trail.
Such fates admonish thee. Rule as thou will: 395

But may the accustomed doom of Thebes be thine.
Lycus: Come then, have done with this wild talk of thine,
And learn from Hercules to obey the will
Of kings. Although by right of victory

I wield this scepter, though I reign supreme 400

Without the fear of laws which arms annul,
Still will I briefly speak in my defense.
And did thy father fall in bloody war ?
Thy brothers too ? But arms no limit know,
Cannot be checked with ease, nor can the sword,
Once drawn, restrain its wrath. War will have blood. 405
But (you will say), he fought to save his state,
While I was prompted by the lust of power.
Still we should look, not at the cause of war,
But at its outcome. Now let memory
Of all the former wrongs pass from thy heart.
When the victor lays aside his arms, 'tis meet
The vanquished should abandon hatred too. 410

I ask thee not upon thy bended knees
To acknowledge me as king; for it is well
That thou shouldst meet thy ruin dauntlessly.
Lo, thou art worthy of a royal mate:

Hercules Furens

133

Be then my wife and not my enemy.
Megara: Cold horror creeps throughout my lifeless limbs.

What shameful proposition do I hear?

I did not shrink when loud alarms of war
</Rang round our city's walls; and all my woes

(I've bravely borne. But marriage — and with him !
l_Now do I think myself indeed a slave.

Load down my tender frame with heavy chains;

Be lingering death by long starvation sought;

Still shall no power o'ercome my wifely faith.

I shall be thine, Alcides, to the death.
Lyi us: Such spirits does a buried husband give ?
Megara: He went below that he might reach the heavens.
Lycus: The boundless weight of earth oppresses him.
Megara: No weight of earth can overwhelm the man

Who bore the heavens up.
Lycus: Thou shalt be forced.

Megara: He can be forced who knows not how to die.
Lycus: Tell me what gift I could bestow more rich

Than royal wedlock ?
Megara: Grant thy death, or mine.

Lycus: Then die, thou fool.

Mt ;ara: 'Tis thus I'll meet my lord.

Lycus: Is that slave more to thee, than I, a king?
Megara: How many kings has that slave given to death!
Lycus: Why does he serve a king, and bear the yoke ?

ira: Remove hard tasks, and where would valor be ?
Lycus: To conquer monsters call'st thou valor then ?
Megara: \ 'Tis valor to subdue what all men fear.
Lycus: The shades of hades hold that boaster fast.
Megara: No easy way leads from the earth to heaven.
Lycus: Who is his father, that he hojxs for heaven ?
Amphifr.: Unhappy wife of mighty Hercules,

Be silent now, for 'tis my part to till

Alcides' parentage. After his deeds,

So many and so great; after the world,

From rising unto setting of the sun,

Has been subdued, so many monsters tamed;

After the giants' impious blood was spilled

415

420

425

4.30

435

440

i;i The Tragedies of Skneca

In Phlegra's vale, and gods wen- reinforced, 445

What Deed we yel to prove his parentage?

1>>> we make false pretense of Jupiter?

Then Juno's hate believe.
/ us: Why blaspheme Jove ?

The race <>f mortals cannot mate with gods.
Amphitr.: Such is the origin of many gods.

Lycus: But were they slaws before t lu-ir heaven was gained ? 450

Amphitr.: The Delian at Pherae kept the flocks.
Lycus} But he did not in exile roam the world.
Amphitr.: His mother bore him in a roaming land,

I [erself a fugitive.
Lycus: Did Phoebus fear

Wild beasts and monsters?
Amphitryon: Yes, in dragon's blood 455

His earliest shafts were stained.
Lycus: Thou knowest not

What heavy ills the young Alcides bore.
Amphitr.: But Bacchus by a thunderbolt was ripped

From out his mother's womb; and yet he stood

In after time beside the Thunderer,

His sire. Nay, Jove himself, who rules the stars
, And drives the clouds, did he not lie concealed, 460

) In helpless infancy in Ida's cave ?

A heavy price must so high lineage pay,

And suffering is the birthright of a god.
Lycus: Whoe'er is wretched, thou wouldst mortal know.
Amphitr.: Whoe'er is brave, thou wouldst not wretched call.
Lycus: But is he brave, from whose broad shoulders fell 465

The lion's skin and club, that they might be

A maiden's plaything ? Who himself shone bright
\ In Tynan vestments? Should we call him brave,

Whose bristling locks were wet with fragrant nard,

Whose famous hands in woman's wise essayed

To play the tambour; on whose frowning brow 470

The Phrygian turban shamelessly was worn ?
Amphitr.: But youthful Bacchus did not blush to wear

His locks in flowing ringlets, in his hand

The thyrsus light to brandish, as he walked

Hercules Furens 135

With steps unsteady, clad in trailing robes

Bright with barbaric gold. 'Tis virtue's right 475

In foolishness to ease the strain of toil.
Lycus: 'Twas for this cause the house of Eurytus

Was overthrown, and troops of maidens slain

Like helpless sheep! No Juno ordered this,

Nor yet Eurystheus: these his works alone. 480

Amphilr.: Thou know'st not all his deeds: it was his work

That Eryx fell, by his own gauntlets slain;

That in his death Antaeus, too, was joined;

That those foul altars, dripping with the blood

Of hapless strangers, drank the blood at last

Of murderous Busiris. 'Twas his work

That Cycnus, proof against the sword, was slain, 485

Though still unwounded; by his hand alone

The threefold Geryon fell. And thou shalt be

As one of these, though they ne'er basely sinned

Against the rites of marriage.
Lycus: What to Jove

Is lawful, is my kingly right as well.

A wife thou gav'st to him; so for thy king

Shalt thou a mate provide. Now Megara 490

From thine example shall the lesson learn,

Not new, that wives may yield to better men,

When husbands give consent. But if, self-willed,

She still refuse to take me for her lord,

I'll force her will to bear me noble seed.
Megara: Ye shades of Creon, and ye household gods 495

Of Labdacus, ye impious nuptial fires

Of Oedipus, your wonted fortune give

To this our union ! O ye savage wives

Of king Aegyptus' sons, be present now,

With blood-stained hands. Your count is incomplete.

I gladly will that impious number fill. 500

Lycus: Since thou dost stubbornly refuse my suit,

And striv'st to fright the king, now shalt thou feel

The strength of royal power. Cling as thou mayst

To altar horns: no god shall save thee now

From me; not though the earth itself be rent,

1 36 The Tragedies of Seneca

And Hercules victorious oome again 505

Unto the upper world.

I To slaves.]
Ih ;i]> high the logs,

And let the sacn -d temple blazing fall

lT|K>n its suppliants. Now let the wife

And all her brood upon the funeral pyre

Be burned to ashes in the kindling flames.
Aniphitr.: This boon Alcides' father asks of thee,

Which fits me well, that I be first to die. 510

Lycus: Who bids all men meet punishment with death

Knows not the ruler's art. Seek varied pains;

Forbid the wretch to die, the happy slay.

Now, while the pyre is growing for the flames,

I'll pay my vows unto the ocean's god. 515

[Exit.]
Aniphitr.: O god of gods, O ruler of the skies,

Whose hurtling bolts make mortals quake with fear,

Check thou the impious hand of this dire king.

Why do I vainly importune the gods ?

Where'er thou art, hear thou and answer, son. 520

But why this sudden rocking of the shrine ?

Why groans the earth ? Far in her lowest hold

A crashing deep resounds. Our prayer is heard !

It is, it is the step of Hercules !

Chorus: ^0 Fortune, envious of the brave, .

Unjustly are thy prizes given ! v 525

Behold Eurystheus reigns at ease,
, While our Alcmena's noble son,
' With hands which could the heavens uplift,

Must endless wars with monsters wage;

Must sever the hydra's teeming necks,

And from the cheated sisters bear 530

The apples, when the dragon huge,

The guardian of the golden fruit,

Had given to sleep his watchful eyes.
! To the wandering homes of Scythia,

Where tribes in their ancestral seats

Hercules Furens 137

As strangers Swell, he made his way.

He trod the frozen ocean's crust, 535

A still sea hemmed by silent shores;
There no waves beat on the rigid plains,
And where but now full swelling sails
Had sped their barks, a path is worn
By the long-haired Sarmatae.

There the waters change with the changing year, 540

Now ships, now horses bearing up.
From the queen who rules o'er virgin tribes,
With golden girdles on their loins,
He took her body's noble spoil,

Her shield and her snowy bosom's guard. 545

On bended knee she acknowledged him victor.
With what hope, driven to the depths of hell,
Bold to tread irretraceable ways,
Didst thou behold the dusky realms
Of Proserpine of Sicily ?

There Notus and Favonius lash 550

No seas to rage with swelling floods;
There do no frightened vessels find
Help from the twin Tyndaridae.
Those waters lie in stagnant pools

And black; and when, with greedy teeth, 555

Pale Death bears off uncounted tribes
Unto the shades, one oarsman grim
Bears all across their gloomy depths.
Oh, that the laws of cruel Styx
Thou mightst annul, and the distaff break,
Relentless, of the fates. And lo, 560

Thou canst avail, for he who rules
O'er many nations once with thee
His deadly hands in battle joined,
When thou didst wage 'gainst Nestor's land
A mighty war. A three -pronged spear
He bore; but soon, by but a wound

O'ercome, he fled. He feared to die, 565

Though lord of death. Burst with thy hands
.The bonds of fate. To those sad souls

!

i;S The Tragedies of Seneca

In lull let in the light of day,

And to the upper world reveal

An easy path. Once, by his songs

And suppliant prayers, did Orpheus bend 570

The stubborn lords of hell, when he

His lost Eurydice would seek.

That art which drew the forest trees,

Which held the birds and rocks enthralled,

Which stopped the river's headlong race,

And tamed the hearts of savage beasts,

Soothed with its strains ne'er heard before 575

Those darksome realms, and clear and fine

Resounded through that silent land.

Eurydice the Thracian dames

Bewailed; Eurydice, the gods,

Who ne'er had wept before; and they

Who with forbidding, awful brows,

In judgment sit and hear the crimes 580

Long since committed, unconfessed,

They sat and wept Eurydice,

Until the lord of death exclaimed:
"We grant thy prayer. Away to earth;

But on this sole condition go:

Do thou behind thy husband fare;

And look thou not upon thy wife, 585

Until the light of day thou see,

And Spartan Taenarus appear."

Love hates delay, nor suffers it :

He hasted to behold his wife —

And she again was lost to him.
So, then, the fortress that could yield to song, 590

Be sure that fortress shall to strength belong.

ACT III

[Enter Hercules, just returned from the lower world, accompanied by Theseus.]

Hercules: O kindly lord of light, heaven's ornament,
Who circlest all the spaces of the sky
With thy flame-bearing car, and thy bright head
Dost lift to glad a new-awakened earth:

Hercules Furens 139

VThy pardon, O Apollo, do I crave, 595

If aught unlawful thou dost see in mc;
For by another's will have I revealed
The hidden things of earth. Thou lord of heaven,
And sire, behind thy flaming thunderbolt
Conceal thy face; and thou who rul'st the seas
By second lot, seek thou their lowest depths. 600

Whoever from on high beholds the earth,
And would not by strange sights be vision-stained,
To heaven look and so these portents shun.
Two only may behold this horrid sight:
The one who brought and she who ordered it.
To work my punishment and fated toils 605

The earth was not enough. Through Juno's hate
Have I seen regions unapproachable,

^Unknown to Phoebus' rays; yea, I have seen
Those gloomy spaces which the nether pole
Has yielded to the dusky Jove's domain.
And had the regions of the final lot

Been pleasing, there could I myself have reigned. 610

That seething chaos of eternal night,
And, what is worse than night, the gloomy gods,

> And fates I conquered; and in scorn of death
I have come back again. What else remains?
I've seen and shown the lower world to men.
If aught beyond is left to do, command.
Why dost thou for so long allow these hands,
O Juno, to remain in idleness? 615

What conquest still dost thou command ? But why
Do soldiers hold the temple walls in siege,
And fear of arms beset their sacred doors ?
[Enter Amphitryon.]
Amphitr.: Now do my fervent hopes deceive my sight,
Or is this he, the tamer of the world,

The pride of Greece, from that sad, silent land 620

Returned ? Is this my son ? My aged limbs
Give way through utter joy. O son, of Thebes
The sure though long-delayed preserver thou!
And do I hold thee sent to earth again,

140

The Tragedies of Seneca

Or doea Borne empty shadow mock my joy?

And art thou be indeed? I recognize

Thy arms and shoulders and the mighty club 625

Within thy hands renowned.
Herculi O father, whence

These marks of grief, and why do I behold

My wife in dusky mourning garments clad,

My children garbed in these vile signs of woe?

What fell disaster hath o'erwhelmed my house ?
Ampliitr.: Thy father-in-law is slain, his kingdom gone,

For Lycus hath usurped it; now he seeks

Thy children, father, wife, to bring to death. 630

Hercules: Ungrateful land ! did no one come to aid

The home of Hercules ? Did all the world,
IDefended by my arm, look on this dee^ -

And suffer it ? But why waste time in grief ?

My enemy must die.
Theseus [seeking to detain him]: O Hercules,

Let not thy mighty courage bear this stain,

And such a foe as Lycus be thy last. 635

I go myself to drink his hateful blood.
Hercules: My Theseus, stay thou here, lest violence

From some new source aris_e. This war is mine.

Let thy embraces wait awhile, my sire,

And thine, my wife. Let Lycus first announce

To Dis that I have safe returned to earth. 640

[Exit.]
Theseus: Now let thy face give o'er its grief, my queen;
[And thou, O father, check thy falling tears,

Since this thy son is safe returned to thee.

If I know Hercules, for Creon's death

This Lycus soon shall pay the penalty.
"Shall pay" is slow; he pays; nay more, has paid.
Amphitr.: Now may some favoring god our prayers fulfil, 645

And help us in our need. O trusty friend

Of our great son, his deeds in order tell:

How long the way that leads to the sorrowing shades;

How bore the dog of hell his heavy chains.
Theseus: Thou bid'st me call to memory such deeds 650

Hercules Furens 141

As e'en in safety make me tremble still.

For I can scarce believe that even yet

I breathe the vital air. My eye's clear sight

Is blinded, and, by that thick darkness dimmed,

Can scarce endure the unaccustomed light.

Amphilr.: But conquer thou the fear that still remains

Deep in thy heart; and do not rob thyself 655

Of the best fruit of toil. For what was hard
To bear becomes most sweet in memory.
Go on, and tell us all thy sufferings.

Theseus: O god of heaven, and thou who holdest sway
In that deep, all-embracing realm of death,
And thou whose mother sought thee (but in vain)
Through all the world: your powers I supplicate
That I may speak with boldness of the things 660

Concealed and buried in the hold of earth.
The Spartan land lifts high a famous cliff
Where Taenarus juts out upon the sea,
Dense wooded. Here the realm of hated Dis
Opes wide its mouth; the high cliff spreads apart, 665

And in a mighty cavern yawns a pit
With jaws portentous, huge, precipitous;
And for all nations ample passage gives.
The way begins, not dark with heavy shades.
A watery gleam of daylight follows in,

And doubtful light, as of the sun eclipsed, 670

Falls there and mocks the eye. Such light the day,
While mingled still with night, at early dawn
Or in its waning hour, is wont to give.
The way then broadens into spaces vast
And empty, where the human race entire
Might plunge and perish. 'Tis no labor here 675

To travel, for the road itself draws down.
As often wliirl{xx>ls suck unwilling ships,
So does the air, down streaming, urge us on,
And hungry chaos. Here the clutching shades
Permit no backward step. Deep in the abyss,
With peaceful shallows gentle Lethe glides, 680

And by its draughts removes all mortal care

[49 The Tragedies of Seneca

And, thai no backward way may !*• allowed,

Willi many folds il wraps the stream of death;

Just as the wandering Maeander sports

With waves uncertain, now upon itself

Retreats, now halts in hesitation slow, 685

Whether it shall its fountain set k again,
Or journey to the sea. Hire lies the marsh
Of sluggish, vile Cocytus; here, behold,

The vulture, there the doleful owl laments,

And through the air die fearsome screech-owl sends

Its sad, foreboding cry. There stands the yew,

Its Mack leaves shuddering on the gloomy boughs; 690

Ami 'neath its shelter hover sluggish Sleep,

And mournful Famine with her wasting jaws,

And Shame, at last her guilty face concealed.

Here quaking Fear, and Murder, desperate Grief,

Black Mourning, tottering Disease, and War

With weapons girded on, lie hid; and last 695

Comes feeble Age upon his staff upheld.

Ampkitr.: Are there no fruitful fields of corn or wine ?

Tliescus: Not so: no joyful fields with verdure shine,

No ripening grain waves gently in the breeze,
No stately trees bear apple-laden boughs; 700

Hut sterile wastes defile those lonely depths,
And in eternal sloth the foul earth lies.
Here lie the lonesome remnants of the world.
tThe air hangs motionless; and thick night broods
Upon a sluggish, horror-stricken land. 705

The place of death is worse than death itself.

Ampkitr.: And what of him who rules those dusky realms?
Where sits he as he rules his shadowy folk ?

Theseus: There is a place in an obscure recess

,-Of Tartarus, which, with its heavy shades, 710

j Dense vapor shrouds. Hence, from a single source,
Two different rivers flow: with silent stream
One bears along the sacred Stygian waves
On which the gods take oath; with mighty roar
The other fiercely rolls the rocks along
Within its flood, the raging Acheron, 715

H E R c u l"e s FjuVen s 143

Which may not be recrossed. Set opposite,

By these two streams encircled, stands the hall
Of royal Dis; and by a shading grove
The mighty house is hid. A spacious cave
Of overhanging rock the threshold forms.

This is the path of souls; here is the door 720

Of Pluto's realm; and, round about, there spreads
The plain wherein the frowning monarch sits
And new-come souls reviews. Of lowering brow
( And awful majesty the god appears;
Yet in his face his brother's likeness bears,
And proves his noble birth. Jove's face is his,
But thundering Jove's. And of that savage realm 725

The master's self makes up the largest part,
For every fearful thing holds him in fear.

Amphitr.: And is the story true that down below
Stern justice is at last administered,
And guilty souls, who have their crimes forgot,
At last atone for sin ? Who is he, then, 730

Who searches out the truth, and justice give s ?

Theseus: There is not one inquisitor alone

Who sits in judgment on the lofty seat,

And tries the trembling culprits: in that hall

Sit Cretan Minos, Rhadamanthus too,

And Aeacus. Each for his sins of earth 735

Must suffer here; the crime returns to him

Who did it, and the guilty soul is crushed

By its own precedents. There, deep immured

In prison, bloody leaders have I seen,

And bleeding backs of heartless tyrants, scourged

By base plebeian hands. Who mildly reigns,

And, though the lord of life, restrains his hands; 740

Who mercifully rules a bloodless realm,

And spares the lives of men: he shall enjoy

Long years of happy life, and, at the end,

Attain to heaven, or to those regions blest

Of the Elysian fields, himself a judge.

Refrain from human blood, all ye who rule: 745

Your sins with heavier judgment shall be judged.

144

The Tragedies of Seneca

Amphitr.: Does any certain place inclose the lost,
And do, as rumor says, the impious
Sharp punishments in endless chains endure ?

Theseus: On swiftly flying wheel Lrion turns; 750

And on the Deck of Sisyphus a stone

Weighs heavily. There stands in middle stream,

With throat thirst-parched, the poor old man, and seeks

To catch the cooling waves which wash his chin.

He, oft deceived, hopes now at last to drink;

As often fails the water at his lips. 755

So also do the fruits his hunger fail.

There Tityos eternal banquets gives

Unto the greedy vulture; and in vain

Do Danaus' daughters bear their brimming urns.

There wander, raging still, the Cadmeids;

And greedy birds still fright old Phineus.
Amphitr.: Now tell the noble struggle of my son. 760

Does he bring back his uncle's willing gift,

Or docs he lead the dog as spoil of war ?
Theseus: A gloomy cliff o'erhangs the sluggish shoals,

Whose waves are dead, and waters motionless.

This stream is guarded by a grim old man,

Of squalid garb and aspect hideous,

Who carries o'er the pool the quaking shades. 765

His long beard hangs unkempt; his shapeless robe

Is knotted into place; his fierce eyes gleam

From sunken cheeks; and he, as ferryman,

With his long pole propels his bark across.

He now his empty boat unto the shore

Was turning to receive the waiting souls, 770

When Hercules requested to be borne

Across the stream. The throng of shades give way;

But fiercely Charon cries: "Whither so bold

Dost thou haste on ? Stay there thy hurrying steps."

Alcmena's son would no delay endure,

But with the pole itself the boatman tamed,

And climbed aboard the boat. The roomy craft, 775

For nations ample, groaned beneath his weight;

And as he sat, the heavy-weighted skiff

Hercules Furens 145

With rocking sides drank in the Lethe stream.

Then quaked the conquered monsters at the sight:

The Centaurs, fierce and wild, the Lapithae,

Inflamed to strife by copious draughts of wine;

And, seeking out the farthest pools of Styx, 780

The beast of Lerna hid his fertile heads.

Soon there appeared the home of greedy Dis,

Where the fierce Stygian dog affrights the shades,

Who, tossing back and forth his triple heads,

With mighty hayings watches o'er the realm.

Around his head with damp corruption foul, 785

Writhe deadly serpents, and his shaggy mane

With vipers bristles; while a twisting snake

Forms his long, hissing tail. His wrath and form

Are both alike terrific. When he heard

The sound of coming feet, straightway he raised

His hackles, bristling with their darting snakes,

And with erected ears caught at the sound 790

( For even noiseless spirits can he hear).

When Jove's son nearer came, within his cave

The dog stood hesitant, and nameless fear

Each of the other felt. Then suddenly

The silence shudders with his hayings deep,

And threatening snakes along his shoulders hiss.

The clamor of his dreadful voice, sent forth 795

Three-throated, even happy shades dismayed.

Then did the hero from his left arm loose

The lion's skin with head and grinning jaws,

And 'neath this mighty shield opposed the dog.

Then in his right all conquering, he raised 800

His mighty club, and with a rain of blows,

Now here, now there, he drove the frightened beast.

The conquered dog at last gave o'er his threats,

And, spent with fighting, lowered all his heads,

And left the entrance free. Then did the king

And queen of hell sit trembling on their thrones, 805

And bade the dog be led away. Me, too,

Did Dis at Hercules' request release,

A royal gift. Then with his soothing hand

146 The Tra'gedies of Seneca

Alcides Btroked the monster's massive Decks,
And bound him with an adamantine chain.
The watchful guardian of the dusky world

ForgOl his wonted fierceness, and his tars

Drooped timidly, lie let himself be led, 8ro

Confessed Ins master, and, with muzzle low,

Submissively he went, his snaky tail

Beating his sides the while. Hut when he came

To Taenarus, and in his eyes there smote

The gleam of unknown light, though strongly bound, 815

His courage he regained and madly shook

His mighty chains. Even his conqueror

Was backward borne and forced to yield his stand.

Then even my aid did the hero seek;

And with united strength we dragged the dog,

Still mad with rage, attempting fruitless war, 820

Into the upper world. But when he saw

The gleaming spaces of the shining sky,

The light of day, thick darkness blinded him;

He turned his gaze to earth, and closed his eyes,

Expelled the hated light, looked backward, sought 825

With all his necks the sheltering earth; and last,

He hid his head within Alcides' shade.

But see, a mighty throng with shouts of joy

Comes yonder, wearing laurel on their brows,

Who chant the well-earned praise of Hercules.

CI; or us: Eurystheus, brought untimely forth, 830

Had bidden Hercules to pierce
The depths of earth. This task alone
Of all his labors yet remained —
To rob the dusky king of hell.
He dared to enter that dark way

Which to the distant manes leads, 835

Dismal, with gloomy forests set,
Yet crowded with the thronging souls.
As when the eager people haste
Throughout the city to behold
The play in some new theater;

Hercules Furens 147

As when they crowd the Pisan fields 840

When the fifth summer brings again

The Elean Thunderer's sacred games;

As, when the lengthening nights return,

And the balanced Scales the sun's bright car

Detain, to gentle sleep inclined,

The people throng the mysteries 845

Of Ceres, while the Attic priests

Lead through the fields with hurried steps

The worshipers: such thronging hordes

Are driven through those silent plains.

A part goes slow with steps of age,

Sadly, and sated with the years; 850

Some, in the earlier flush of life,

Advance with the sprightly step of youth,

Young maids not yet in wedlock joined,

And boys with flowing ringlets, babes,

Who have not yet learned to repeat

Their mother's name. To these alone 855

'Tis given to dispel the night

With torches, and their fears relieve.

The rest in utter darkness fare,

And sadness. So our spirits mourn,

When each one, grieving o'er his fate,

Feels crushed in darkness 'neath the weight 860

Of all the world. There chaos reigns,

Repulsive glooms, the hateful dark

Of night, the empty veil of clouds,

The weary inactivity

Of that still, empty universe.

Oh, may the time far distant be

When old age bears us to that land.

None come too late, and ne'er can he, 865

Who once has come, return again.

What need to hasten cruel fate ?

For all the wandering tribes of earth

Shall surely seek the land of shades,

And on the still Cocytus spread

Their sails; all things the sun beholds, 870

{>

[48 The Tragedies of Seneca

In rising and in Betting, grow

But to decay. Then Bpare, 0 death,

Those who are doomed to come to thee.

Life is but practicing for death; -

Though thou lx.1 slow in coming, still

We hasten of ourselves. The hour

Which gave us life begins our death.

The joyful day of Thebes is here; 875

Now at the altars sacrifice,

And let the choicest victims fall.

Ye maids and nun, in mingled bands

'Begin the stately choral dance;

And let the cattle of the fields 880

Put off their yokes and be glad today;

For by the hand of Hercules

Has peace from east to west been won,

And in that land where the sun rides high

In middle heaven, and the shadows fail. 885

Whatever region Tethys laves

In her long reach has been o'crcome

By great Alcides' toils. Borne now

Across the shoals of Tartarus,

With hell subdued, he comes again. 890

No room is left for fear; for what

Beyond the world of death remains ?
And now ye priests, adorn your bristling hair
With poplar which Alcides loves to wear.

ACT IV

[Enter Hercules, fresh from the slaying of Lycus, intending to offer

sacrifices to the gods.]
Hercules: By my avenging hand lies Lycus slain; 895

And all, who in his life the tyrant claimed

As comrades, now by death are comrades still

In punishment. Now will I offerings pay

Unto my father and the gods of heaven

For victory, and heap the altars high

With bleeding victims to their kindness due.

Thee, thee, O friend and helper in my toils, 900

Hercules Furens 149

O warlike Pallas, unto thee I pray,

Upon whose left the petrifying shield

Makes direful threats. And be thou here I pray,

Thou tamer of Lycurgus, who didst cross

The ruddy sea, who in thy hand dost bear

The thyrsus, ivy-wreathed; and ye twin gods,

Apollo and Diana, hear my prayer. 905

(Her hand the bow adorns, but his, the lyre.)

Ye, too, I worship, all ye brothers mine,

Who dwell in heaven; but not my stepdame's sons.

[To his attendants.]
And do ye hither drive my richest flocks;
Whatever fragrant spices India bears 910

And far Arabia, to the altars bring,
And let the savor}' smoke of sacrifice
To heaven ascend. Now let us crown our locks
With wreaths of poplar; but the olive leaves,
Thy nation's symbol, should adorn thy head,
O Theseus. Now in prayer we lift our hands
To Jove the Thunderer: do thou protect 915

The founders of our state, the wooded caves
Of savage Zethus, Dirce's famous fount,
CAnd the Tyrian lares of our pilgrim king.
[To the attendants.]
Now throw the fragrant incense on the flames.

Amphilr.: O son, thy hands, all dripping with the blood
Of thy slain foe, thou first shouldst purify.

Hercules: Would that his hateful blood I might pour out 920

Unto the gods; for no libation poured
Could stain the altars more acceptably.
No ampler, richer victim could be paid
To mighty Jove, than this unrighteous king.

Amphitr.: Beseech thy father that he end thy tasks;

Pray that at last he give surcease of toil, 925

And to the wearied rest.

Hercules: I shall myself

Frame prayers more worthy Jupiter and me :
May heaven, earth, and air their order keep,
And the everlasting stars wheel on their way,

1 50 The T r a o e n i e s of Seneca

Unchanged; may peace profound brood o'er the world;

May in>n U' used for harmless toil alone, 930

And deadly weapons vanish from the earth;

May no unbridled tempest lash the sea;

May angry Jove semi forth do lightning holts;

And may no river, fed by winter's snows,

O'erflow the troubled fields; may venom fail;

And may DO noxious herb its fruitage bear; 935

May fierce and cruel tyrants rule no more.

If the pregnant earth still foster any crime,
iLet her make haste to bring it to the light;

And if she still another monster bear,

Lei it be mine to meet.
[The madness planned by Juno begins to conic upon hint.]

But what is this ?

The day's bright noon is by dark shadows dimmed, 940

And, though the sky be cloudless, Phoebus fares
vWith face obscured. Who puts the day to flight,

And drives it back to seek the dawn again ?

Whence rears unheard-of night its gloomy head?

Why do so many stars the heavens fill

In daylight hours ? See where the Lion fierce,

My earliest labor, glitters in the sky, 945

Inflamed with wrath, and threatens with his fangs.

Now, surely, will he some bright star devour.

With gaping jaws and menacing he stands;

He breathes out fire, and on his flaming neck

His mane he tosses. Soon will he o'erleap

With one huge bound the fruitful autumn's stars,

And those which frozen winter brings to view, 950

And slay with savage lunge the vernal Bull.
Amphitr.: What sudden ill is this? Why dost thou turn

Now here now there thy burning eyes ? And why

Dost thou so falsely see the heavens ? V
Hercules: Now is the whole round earth at last subdued; 955

The swollen seas give place, and e'en the realms

Infernal have our toils heroic known.

The heavens alone remain untried, a task

Well worth the struggles of a Hercules. ^

Hercules Furens 151

Now shall I soar aloft to those far heights,

And seek the heavenly spaces; for a star

Has Jupiter, my father, promised me.

What if he should refuse ? Nay, but the earth 960

No longer can Alcidcs hold, and now

Returns him to the heavens whence he came.

Behold, the whole assembly of the gods

Invite me to their midst, and open wide

The doors of heaven — with one dissenting voice.
[To Juno, in apostrophe.]

And wilt thou not receive me into heaven?

Wilt not unbar the gates? Wouldst have me rend

The portals of the stubborn sky away ?

And dost doubt thou my power ? Nay, Saturn's chains 965

Will I unbind, and loose my grandsire's might

Against his impious son's unbridled sway.

I'll stir the Titans up to war again,

And lead them on; great rocks and trees I'll bring,

And with my strong right hand I'll snatch and hurl

The ridges where the Centaurs have their home. 970

Two mountains, one on other, will I pile

And so construct a highway to the skies.

Then shall old Chiron see Mount Ossa placed

Upon his Pelion; and if to heaven

Olympus reach not, third in order set,

I'll hurl it there.
Amphitryon: Such thought be far from t'

\ Check this mad impulse of a heart insane, / 975

( Though great.
Hercules: But what is this? With dire intent

The giants are in arms. Great Tityus

Has fled the shades, and, towering aloft

With torn and empty breast, has almost gained

The heavens. Cithaeron totters to his base,

Pallene trembles, Tempe faints in fear. 9.S0

One has Mount Pindus snatched away, and one

Mount Oeta. Mimas rages horribly.

Now comes Erinnvs with her flaming torch,

And shakes In r hissing scourge; my face she seeks

i 53 T H 1 T R A G EDIES 0 F S E N E C A

v arer and Dearer with ill-omened brands

On funeral pyres enkindled. There I see

Tisiphone with snake-encircled head; 985

With brandished torch she guards the gate <>f hell,

Now that their watch-dog has been Stolen away.
[//<• catches sight <>j his children.]

But see wlurc lurk the children of the king,

The impious spawn of Lycus whom I hate.

To your detested sire I'll send you now.

Let darting arrows from my bowstring fly; 990

Such errands fit my noble weapons well.

[ //c aims an arrow at one 0) the children.]
Amphitr.: What will he do in his blind passion's rage?

Now he has bent his mighty bow, and now

His quiver loosed. The hissing dart is sped.

Straight through the neck it flics, and leaves the wound.
Hercules: The rest will I hunt out, yea, all that lurk 995

Within this city's walls, without delay.

A greater war against Mycenae waits,

That by my hands those Cyclopean walls

May be o'erthrown; and that the royal hall,

Its high walls shattered, noble roof in-fall'n,

Doors burst, may be to utter ruin brought, 1000

And all its royal secrets be revealed.

[He sees his second son hiding.]

Ah, here I see another hiding son

Of that most wicked sire.

[He seizes lite child and drags him Jrom the scene.]
Amphitryon [standing where he can see what is being done behind tlie

scenes] :

Behold the child,

His coaxing hands stretched out to clasp the knees

Of his mad father, begs with piteous tones.

Oh, crime unspeakable, pathetic, grim:

For by his pleading hand the child is caught, 1005

And, madly whirled again and yet again,

Sent headlong through the air. A sickening sound —

And with his scattered brains the roof is wet.

But wretched Megara, her little son

Hercules Furens 153

Protecting in her arms, flees madly forth.
Hercules [behind the scenes, to Megara also behind the scenes]: Though

thou shouldst hide thee in the Thunderer's arms, 1010

This hand of mine will seek and snatch thee forth.
Amphitryon [standing throughout this scene as aboz>e]: Oh, whither,
wretched woman, dost thou flee ?

What flight, what hiding-places dost thou seek ?

No place is safe from angry Hercules.

Embrace his knees the rather, and with prayer

Attempt to soothe his wrath. 1015

The voice of Megara: O husband, spare;

Thy Megara behold and recognize;

This son of thine thy face and manner bears.

See how he stretches out his hands to thee.
The voice 0} Hercules: At last I have thee, stepdame, in my power.

Come thou with me, and pay full penalty

For all my wrongs; free thy poor, troubled lord

From his base yoke. But ere the mother dies, 1020

This little monster must be put to death.
The voice of Megara: What wouldst thou, madman ? Shed thine

infant's blood ?
Amphitr.: The child, in terror of his father's face,

Died ere he felt the blow. 'Twas fear that snatched

His spirit forth. Now 'gainst his trembling wife,

His mighty club is raised — her bones are crushed,

Her head is stricken from the mangled trunk 1025

And may no more be seen.

[To him self.]

O stubborn age,

Too long enduring, canst thou bide this sight ?

But if thy grief is irksome, death is near.
[To Hercules.]

Impale me on thy darts; that club of thine,

With blood of monsters smeared, raise to my death.

Come, slay me who am falsely called thy sire, 1030

And so remove this blot upon thy name,

That I no longer may thy fame obscure.
Theseus: Why sliouldst thou wantonly provoke thy death,

Old man ? Why this mad haste to die ? Away,

iS4

The Tragedies of Seneca

Hercules:

Amphitr.

Chorus:

And hide. From this one crime spare Hercules.
[Enter I [ercules.]

"l'is will; the household <>f tlie shameless king
Is utterly destroyed. To thee, O wife
Of mighty Jove, this promised sacrifice
Have I performed; my vows I've gladly paid;
And other victims shall thine Argos give.
Thou hast not yet enough atonement made,
O son. Complete the sacrifice. Behold,
A victim at the altar stands, and waits,
With willing neck, thy hand. I offer here
My life, and eagerly; I seek to die.
Slay me.

[Hercules appears to be fainting.]
But what is this ? His eye's keen glance
Cannot maintain its gaze; grief dims his sight;
And do I see the hands of Hercules
A-tremble ? Now his eyelids fall in sleep,
His head sinks down upon his weary breast,
His knees give way, and down upon the earth
His whole great body falls; as when some ash
Is felled in forest glades, or when some cliff
Falls down and makes a harbor in the sea.

[To Hercules.]
Dost thou yet live ? Or has thy furious rage,
Which sent thy friends to death, slain thee as well ?

[He examines the prostrate body.]
He slumbers; this his measured breathing proves.
Let him have time for rest, that heavy sleep
May break his madness' force, and so relieve *
His troubled heart.

[To attendants.]
Ye slaves, his arms remove,
Lest, waking, he again his madness prove.

i°3S

1040

1045

1050

Let heaven and heaven's creator mourn,
The fertile earth, the wandering wave
Upon the restless sea. And thou,
Who over lands and ocean's plains

io55

Hercules Furens

i55

Dost shed thy light, whose beauteous face
Drives night away, O glowing Sun,
Grieve more than all. For equally
Thy risings had Alcides seen,
And eke thy settings; both thy homes
Were known to him. His spirit loose
From monstrous madness; loose him, ye
Who rule above. His mind restore
To sanity again. And thou,
O Sleep, subduer of our ills,
The spirit's rest, thou better part
Of human life, swift-winged one,
Astraea's child, of cruel Death
The sluggish brother, mixing false
With true, prescient of future things,
But oftenest of misery;
O sire of all things, gate of life,
Day's respite and the comrade true
Of night, who com'st impartially
To king and slaves, with gentle hand
The wearied spirit comforting;
Thou who dost force the race of men
Who quail at mortal doom, to gain
A foretaste of the sleep of death :
Subdue and overwhelm him quite
With heavy stupor; let his limbs,
Unconquered hitherto, be held
Fast bound in chains of deepest sleep;
Take not the spell from his fierce heart,
Until his former mind return
To its accustomed course.
But see, prone on the ground he lies,
His savage dreams in his fierce heart
JStill hold their sway. Not yet, alas,
Is his dire madness overcome.
Accustomed to recline his head
Upon his heavy club, see now,
He feels about with empty hand
To find the ponderous trunk, his arms

1060

1065

1070

i°75

1080

1085

1 56 TnE Tragedies of Seneca

\\ ith fruitless motion tossed, Not yet

Has all the fever from his veins

Been driven out, bul rages <>n;

As waves, by mighty tempests vexed, 1090

Toss wildly on and swell with rage,

Although the winds have ceased to blow.

Oh, calm this tempest in his soul;

I. t piety and manly strength

Return; or, rather, let his mind 1095

Be still by mad impulses stirred,

And his blind error go the way

It has begun. For madness now

Alone can make him innocent.
I To have the hands unstained by guilt

Is best, but next to this is sin

Done in unconsciousness.

Now let thy breast resound with blows, 1100

tAnd let those arms which once have borne
)The heavens up be smitten now

By thy victorious hands; thy cries

Be heard throughout the realms of air,

By her who rules the world of night, 1105

And Cerberus crouching in his cave,

His neck still burdened with thy chains.

Let Chaos with the dolorous sound

Re-echo, and the widespread waves

Of ocean, and the air above 11 10

Which had thy darts in better use

Beheld. Thy breast, with ills beset

So mighty, must with no light blow

Be smitten. With one great sound of grief

Let heaven, sea, and hell be filled.

And thou, brave shaft, above his neck 11 15

So long suspended, armament

And wreapon too, thou quiver huge,

Smite heavily his savage back.

Thou sturdy club of oak, come beat

His mighty shoulders, and oppress 1120

His breast with thy hard-knotted stock.

Hercules Furens 157

Let all his weapons worthily

Of so great grief lament with him.
[To the dead children.]

But you, who in your father's praise

Can never share, who ne'er from kings

Have taken deadly recompense,

Who never in the Argive games

Have learned to bend your youthful limbs,

In wrestling and in boxing strong 1125

To strive; who have but dared as yet

To poise the slender Scythian dart

With steady hand, and pierce the stag

Who safety seeks in flight, but not
\ The lion fierce with tawny mane: 1130

Go to your Stygian refuge, go,

Ye guiltless shades, who on life's verge

Have by your father's mad assault

Been overwhelmed. Poor children, born

Of an ill-omened, luckless race, 1135

Fare on along your father's toilsome path,
To where the gloomy monarchs sit in wrath !

ACT V

Hercules [waking up in his right mind]: What place is this?

. What quarter of the world ?

Ouuij Where am I ? 'Neath the rising sun, or where

The frozen Bear wheels slowly overhead ?

Or in that farthest land whose shores are washed 1 1 40

By the Hesperian sea ? What air is this

I breathe? What soil supports my weary frame?

For surely have I come again to earth.

[His eyes fall on his murdered children.]

Whence came those bloody corpses in my house ?

Do I behold them, or not even yet

Have those infernal visions left my mind ? 1145

Even on earth the ghostly shapes of death

Still flit before mine eyes. I speak with shame:

I am afraid. Sonu- great calamity,

Some hidden ill my prescient soul forebodes.

The Tragedies of Seneca

&'■

Where is my father? Where my faithful wife,
Proud of that troop of children al her side? 1150

Why does my left Bide miss the lion's skin,
Mv shield in danger and my couch in sleep?
Where is my bow, my darts? Who, while I live,
Has dared remove my amis? Who so great s]x>ils
lias gained? Who then so hold as not to fear 1155

The very slumber of a Hercules ?
Twould please me well to see my victor — well.
Arise, thou victor, whom my sire begot,
A later wonder, leaving heaven behind;
At whose begetting, longer than at mine,
The night stood waiting.
[He recognizes his dead wife and children.]

Oh, what sight is this ?
My sons lie murdered, weltering in their blood; n 60

My wife is slain. What Lycus rules the land ?
Who could have dared to do such things in Thebes,
And Hercules returned ? Whoever dwells
Along Ismenus' stream, in Attic plains,

Or in the land Dardanian Pelops rules, 11 65

By two seas lapped, come to my aid, and tell
The name of him who has this murder done.
If not, my wrath will turn against you all;
For he's my foe who shows me not my foe.
Why dost thou hide, Alcides' vanquisher ?
I care not whether thou dost vengeance seek
For those wild horses of the Thracian king, 11 70

Or Geryon's flock, or Libya's vanquished lords;
I do not shun the fight; see, here I stand,
Defenseless, even though with my own arms
Thou com'st against me, armorless. But why
Do Theseus and my father shun my glance ?
Why do they turn away ? Postpone your tears, n 75

And tell me who has given my loved ones all
To death. What, father, art thou silent still ?
Then do thou tell me, Theseus, faithful friend.
Each turns away in silence, and his face,
As if in shame, conceals; while down his cheeks

Hercules Fur ens 159

The tears flow stealthily. In so great ills

What cause for shame can be ? Is this the work 1180

Of him who ruthlessly at Argos rules?

Has dying Lycus' hostile soldiery

With such disaster overwhelmed our house?

0 father, by the praises of my deeds,

By thine own name which ever was to me

Propitious, tell, I pray thee, who it is

Who hath o'erthrown my house. Whose prey am I ? 1185

Amphitr.: Let ills like these in silence pass away.
' Hercules: And I be unavenged ?
Amphitryon: But vengeance hurts.

Hercules: Who has, inactive, ever borne such wrongs ?
Amphitr.: He who feared greater wrongs.
Hercules: Than these my wrongs

Can any greater, heavier be feared ? 1 190

Amphitr.: The part thou knowest of thy woes is least.
Hercules: Have pity. See, I stretch my suppliant hands.

But what is this ? He will not touch my hands.

In these must be the sin.

But whence this blood ?

Why is that shaft, once dipped in Hydra's gall, 1195

Now wet with infant gore ? They are my own,

These arrows that I see; the guilty hand

1 need no longer seek; for who but me

Could bend that mighty bow, or whose right hand
Could draw the string that scarcely yields to me ?

[To Amphitryon and Theseus.]
To you I turn again. O father, tell:

Is this my deed ? 1200

[Both men hesitate in silence.]
They hesitate — 'tis mine.
Amphitr.: Thine is the grief; thy stepdame's is the crime.
From fault of thine this sad mischance is free.
Hercules: Now hurl thy wrathful bolts from all the heavens,
O sire, who hast forgotten me, thy son;
Avenge at least, though with a tardy hand,
Thy grandsons. Let the star-set heavens resound,
And darting lightnings leap from pole to pole. 1205

lOO

The Tragedies of Seneca

a

i*

. Ampliitr.:

Hercules:

Lei me be bound upon the Caspian rocks,

And let the birds <>f prey devour my ilcsh.

Why lacks Prometheus' cliff a prisoner?

Prepare for me the bare, steep mountain side

( >i' Caucasus, that, on l>is towering peak,

The birds and beasts <>f prey may feed on me.

Or let the blue Symplcgades, which hedge 1210

The Scythian deep, stretch out my fettered hands

This way and that; and, when with rhythmic change

The rocks together clash, which fling to heaven

The sea thai lies between the rushing cliffs,

May I lie there, the mountains' restless check. 1215

Or why not heap a mighty pyre of wood,

And burn my body stained with impious blood ?

Thus, thus it must be done; so Hercules

Shall to the lower world return again.

Not yet has madness ceased to vex his heart.

But now his wrath has changed, and, fury's sign, 1220

He rages 'gainst himself.

Ye dire abodes
Of fiends, ye prison-house of damned shades,
Ye regions set apart for guilty throngs,
If any place of exile lie beyond
Deep Erebus, unknown to Cerberus

And me, there hide ye me. I'll go and dwell 1225

Upon the farthest bound of Tartarus.
O heart, too hard! Who worthily will weep
For you, my children, scattered through my house ?
This face, woe-hardened, knows not how to weep.
Bring me my sword, and give me here my darts, 1230

My mighty club.

[He addresses the jour corpses in order.]
For thee, poor murdered boy,
I'll break my shafts; for thee my mighty bow
Shall be asunder riven; to thy shades
My heavy club shall burn; and on thy pyre
My quiver, full of venomed darts, shall lie.
My arms shall pay their penalty for sin. 1235

You, too, my guilty hands, with these shall burn,

Hercules Furens 161

Too prompt to work a cruel slepdame's will.
Theseus: \ Who ever called an act of madness crime ?
Hercules: j Unbridled madness often ends in crime.
Amphitr.: Now is there need of Hercules to bear

This greatest weight of woe.
Hercules: Not yet is shame 1240

So utterly extinguished in my heart,

That I can bear to see all people flee

My impious presence. Arms, my Theseus, arms!

I pray you give them quickly back to me.
_If I am sane, trust weapons to my hands;
7 If madness still remains, O father, fly;

For I shall quickly find the road to death. 1245

Amphitr.: By holy ties of birth, and by the name

That makes us one, be it of father true,

Or foster-father; by these hoary locks

Which pious souls revere: I pray thee spare

My lonely age and my enfeebled years.

Spare thou thyself to me, the only prop 1250

Of this my falling house, the only light

That's left to cheer my woeful heart. No fruit

Of all thy toils have I as yet enjoyed;

But ever either stormy seas I've feared,

Or monsters. Every savage king who raves

In all the world, for impious altars famed, 1255

Is cause of dread to me. Thy father longs

For joy of thee, to feel and see thee near.
Hercules: Why I should longer keep my soul in life,

And linger on the earth, there is no cause;

For I have lost my all: my balanced mind, 1260

My arms, my reputation, children, wife,
j" The glory of my strength — my madness too.
>if There is no remedy for tainted souls;
V But death alone can cure me of my sin.
Amphitr.: ,And wilt thou slay thy father?
Hercules: Lest I do,

I'll kill myself.
Amphitryon: Before thy father's face?

Hercules: Such impious sights I've taught him to behold.

i6a The Tragedies of Seneca

4

Amphitr.: Nay, rather think upon thy worthy deeds, 1265

And grant thyself remission oi one sin.
Hercules: Shall he give absolution to himself,

Who granted none to other men ? My deeds

Which have deserved the praise of men, I did

Because another hade. This is my own.

Then help me, father, whether piety

Or my sad fortune move thee to my aid, 1270

Or the glory of my manhood, now profaned.

Give me my arms again, that my right hand

May vanquish fate.
Theseus: Thy father's prayers, indeed,

Are strong enough; but by my pleadings, too,

Be moved. Rise up, and meet adversity

With thine accustomed force. Thy strength of mind 1275

Recall, which no misfortune ever yet

Has daunted. Now must thou with all thy might

Contend, and curb the wrath of Hercules.
Hercules: If yet I live, I have committed wrong;

But if I die, then have I suffered it.

I haste to purge the earth of such as I.

Now long enough has there been hovering

Before my eyes that monstrous shape of sin, 1280

So impious, savage, merciless, and wild.

Then come, my hand, attempt this mighty task,

Far greater than the last. Dost hesitate

Through cowardice ? Or art thou brave alone

'Gainst boys and trembling mothers?

Give my arms,

Or else I shall from Thracian Pindus strip 1285

The woods, the groves of Bacchus, and shall burn

Cithaeron's ridgy heights along with me.

The homes of Thebes together with their lords,

The temples with their gods, will I o'erthrow,

And 'neath a ruined city will I lie. 1290

And if this weight of walls should prove too light
: For these strong shoulders, and the seven gates

Be not enough to crush me to the earth,

The mighty mass of earth which separates

Hercules Furens 163

The upper from the nether skies I'll take,

And hurl its crushing weight upon my head.
Amphitr.: Lo, I return thine arms. 1295

Hercules: Now are thy words

More worthy of the sire of Hercules.

See, by this arrow pierced, my child was slain.
. 1 mphilr.: 'Tis true, but Juno Shot It by thy hand! 7~
Hercules: Then I myself shall use it now.. — - — — -.^^
Amphitryon: Behold, A

How throbs his heart within his anxiousjjrcaetr
Hercules: The shaft is ready. 1300

Amphitryon: Ah, now wilt thou sin,

Of thine own will and with full consciousness.

Have then thy will; we make no further prayer.

For now my grief has gained a safe retreat.

Thou only canst preserve my son to me;

Thou canst not take him from me. For my fear

I've sounded to the depths and feel no more.

Thou canst no longer give me any pain, 1305

Though happy thou canst make me even yet.

Decide then as thou wilt decide: but know

That here thy cause and reputation stand

In doubtful balance. Either thou dost live,

Or thou dost kill thy sire. This fleeting soul,

Now worn with age and shattered by its grief,

Is trembling on my lips in act to go. 13 10

Art thou so slow to grant thy father life?

I can no longer brook delay, nor wait

To thrust the fatal sword into my breast.

And this shall be a sane Alcides' crime.
Hercules: Now stay, my father, stay; withhold thy hand.

Yield thee, my manhood; do a father's will. 13 15

\Add this task also to thy former toils —

And live! Lift up my father's fainting form,

O Theseus, friend; for these my guilty hands

That pious duty shun.
Amphitryon: But I with joy

Will clasp this hand, with its support I'll walk, 1320

And to my aching heart I'll clasp it close,

16 i

T H l T RAO] DIES OF S K N EC A

And banish all my woes.
Hercules: ^ Where shall 1 flee ?

Where hide myself? What land shall bury me

From human sight ? What Tan a 'is or Nile,

What Tigris, with the waves of Persia mad,

What warlike Rhine, or TagUS, flowing full 1325

And turgid with Iberia's golden sands,
iCan ever cleanse this right hand of its stains?

Though ehill Maeotis pour its icy floods

Upon me; though the boundless sea should pour

Its waters o'er my hands; still would they be

Deep dyed with crime. Where wilt thou take thyself,

Thou murderer? Wilt flee to east, or west ? 1330

Known everywhere, I have no place of flight.

The whole world shrinks from sight of me; the stars

Avert their courses from me, and the sun

Saw even Cerberus with milder face.

O Theseus, faithful friend, seek out a place, 1335

Far off from here, where I may hide myself.

Since thou a lenient judge of others' sins

Hast ever been, grant mercy now to me.

Restore me to the infernal shades, I beg,

And load me with the chains thou once didst wear. 1340

That place will hide me — but it knows me too !
Theseus: My land awaits thy coming; there will1 Mars

Wash clean thy hands, and give thee back thy arms.

That land, O Hercules, now calls to thee,

Which even gods from sin is wont to free.

' Reading, resliluel.

HIPPOLYTUS or PHAEDRA

HIPPOLYTUS or PHAEDRA

DRAMATIS PERSONAE

Hippolytus Son of Theseus and Antiope, an Amazon.

Phaedra . . Wife of Theseus and stepmother of Hippolytus.

Theseus . . King of Athens.

Nurse ... Of Phaedra.

Messenger.

Slaves and attendants.

Chorus . . Of Athenian citizens.

The scene is laid throughout in the court in front of the royal palace
at Athens; and the action is confined to the space of one day.

Theseus had wed Antiope, the Amazon, and of their union had been
born Hippolytus. This youth grew up to love the chase, austere and beau-
tiful, shunning the haunts of men, and scorning the love of women. Theseus
had meanwhile slain Antiope, and married Phaedra, Cretan Minos' child.

And now, for four years past, the king has not been seen upon the earth,
for, following the mad adventure of his bosom friend, Pirithoiis, he has
descended into Tartara, and thence, men think, he never will return.

Deserted by her lord, the hapless Phaedra has conceived a hopeless pas-
sion for Hippolytus; for Venus, mindful of that ancient shame, which
Phaedra's ancestor, Apollo, had exposed, has sent this madness on her, even
as Pasiphae, her mother, had been cursed with a most mad and fatal malady.

ACT I

Ilippolytus [in hunting costume, assigning duties and places to his ser-
vants and companions of the hunt]:

Up comrades, and the shadowy groves

With nets encircle; swiftly range

The heights of our Cecropian hills;

Scour well those coverts on the slopes

Of Parnes, or in Thria's vale 5

Whose chattering streamlet roars along

In rapid course; go climb the hills

Whose peaks are ever white with snows
S Of Scythia. Let others go

Where woods with lofty alders stand 10

In dense array; where pastures lie
.Whose springing grass is waked to life
^By Zephyr's breath, dew laden. Go,

Where calm Ilissus flows along

The level fields, a sluggish stream, 15

Whose winding course the barren sands

With niggard water laps. Go ye

Along the leftward-leading way,

Where Marathon her forest glades

Reveals, where nightly with their young

The suckling mothers feed. Do you, 20

f Where, softened by the warming winds
(From southern lands, Acharnae melts

His snows, repair; let others seek

Hymettus' rocky slopes, far famed

For honey; others still the glades

Of small Aphidnae. All too long

That region has unharried lain 25

Where Sunium with its jutting shore

Thrusts out the curving sea.

If any feels the forest's lure,

I Iim Phlye calls, where dwells the boar

Now scarred and known by many a wound,
169

170 The Tragedies of Seneca

The fanners' fear. 30

Now free tin- dogB from attaining leash,
That hunt in silence; but the hounds

Of kern Molossian breed hold fast

In check; let the savage Cretans strain

With chaffing necks upon their chains;

The Spartans hold in strongest curb, 35

With caution bind, for bold their breed,

And eager for the prey.

The time will come when their baying loud

Through the hollow rocks shall echo; now

Let them snuff the air with nostrils keen,

And with lowered muzzles seek the tracks 40

Of beasts, while yet the dawn is dim,

And while the dewy earth still holds

The marks of treading feet. Let some

On burdened necks the wide nets bear,

And others haste to bring the snares . 45

Of smooth-wrought cords. Let feathers, dyed

With crimson, hedge the timid deer

With terrors vain. Do thou use darts

Of Crete, and thou the heavy spear

By both hands wielded. Thou shalt sit 50

In hiding and with clamors loud

Drive out the frightened beasts; and thou,

When all is done, with curving blade

Shalt break the victims.

And thou, be with thy worshiper,

O goddess of the chase, whose rule 55

Extends o'er all the secret haunts

Of earth; whose darts unerring pierce

The flying prey; whose thirst is quenched

By cool Araxes' distant stream,

Or for whose sport the Ister spreads

His frozen waves. Thy hand pursues 60 .

Gaetulian lions, Cretan deer;

And now the swiftly fleeing does

With lighter stroke are pierced. To thee

The spotted tigers yield, to thee

HlPPOLYTUS OR^PhAEDRA 171

The bisons, shaggy backed, and the wild,
Broad -horne'd oxen of the woods. 65

Whatever feeds upon the plains
In desert pasture lands; whate'er
The needy Garamantian knows,
Whate'er the Arab rich in woods,
Or wild Sarmatian, wandering free

Across the lonely wilderness; 70

Whate'er the rugged Pyrenees
Or deep Hyrcanian glades conceal:
All fear thy bow, thou huntress queen.
If any worshiper of thine
Takes to the hunt thy favoring will,

His nets hold fast the struggling prey; 75

No birds break from his snares; for him
The groaning wagons homeward come
With booty rich; the hounds come back
With muzzles deeply dyed in blood,
And all the rustic throng returns

In shouting triumph home. 80

But lo, the goddess hears. The hounds
Are baying loud and clear to announce
The start. I'm summoned to the woods.
Here, here I'll hasten where the road
Most quickly leads away.
[Exit.]

Phaedra: O mighty Crete, thou mistress of the deep, 85

Whose ships uncounted sail through every sea
Wherever Nereus shows their beaks the way,
E'en to Assyria's shores; why dost thou here
Compel me thus in woe and tears to live,
— -A hostage given to the hated foe, 90

And to a foeman wed ? Behold my lord,
Deserting me, his bride, is far away,
And keeps his wonted faith. Through shadows deep
Of that dark pool which may not be recrossed,
This doughty follower of a madcap prince
Has gone, that from the very throne of Dis 95

173 The Tragedies of Seneca

He might seduce and bear away his queen.

With SUCh mad fully linked he went away,

t Restrained by neither fear nor shame. And so,

[In deepest Acheron, illicit love
This father of EfippolytUS desires.

Hut other, greater griefs than this oppress

Gfy sorrowing soul; no quiet rest by night, 100

1 No slumber deep comes to dissolve my cares;

But woe is fed and grows within my heart,

And there burns hot as Aetna's raging fires.

My loom stands empty and my listless hands

Drop idly from their tasks. No more I care 105

To make my votive offerings to the gods,

Nor, with the Athenian women mingled, dance

Around their sacred shrines, and conscious brands

Toss high in secret rites. I have no heart

With chaste and pious prayers to worship her,

That mighty goddess who was set to guard

This Attic land. My only joy is found no

"*In swift pursuit of fleeing beasts of prey,

My soft hands brandishing the heavy spear.

But what will come of this ? Why do I love

The forest glades so madly ? Ah, I feel
—The fatal malady my mother felt;

For both have learned within the forest depths

To sin in love. O mother, now my heart 115

Doth ache for thee; for, swept away by sin

Unspeakable, thou boldly didst conceive

A shameful passion for the savage lord

Of the wild herd. Untamable was he,

That stern and lustful leader of the flock ;

And yet he loved. But in my passion's need 120

What god can help me ? Where the Daedalus

Who can my love relieve ? Should he return

Who shut our monster in the labyrinth,

He could not by his well-known Attic skill

Avail to save me from this dire mischance.
—. For Venus, filled with deadly hate of us,
j The stock of Phoebus, seeks through me to avenge 125

Hippolytus or Phaedra 173

The chains which fettered her in shame to Mars,
And all our house with direful love she fills.
No princess of our race has ever loved
In modest wise, but always monstrously.
Xnrse: O wife of Theseus, glorious child of Jove,

Drive from thy modest breast these shameful thoughts. 130

Put out these flames; and give thyself no hope

Of such dire love as this. Whoe'er at first

Has set himself to fight and conquer love,

A safe and easy victory finds. But he,

Who dallies with its evil sweets, too late

Refuses to endure the galling yoke 135

Which he himself has placed upon his neck.

I know full well how scornful of the truth,

How harsh the swollen pride of princesses,

How it refuses to be bent aright.

Whatever outcome chance allots, I'll bear;

For dawning freedom makes the aged brave.

To will to live uprightly nor to fall 140

From virtue's ways is best; but next to this

Is sense^pf shame, the knowing when to stop

A sinful course. What, pray, will be the end

For thee, poor mistress ? Why dost heap thy house

With further infamy? Wquldst thou outsin

Thy mother? For thy impious love is worse

Than her unnatural and monstrous love.

The first you would impute to character,

The last to fate. If, since thy husband sees 145

No more the realms of earth, thou dost believe

That this thy sin is safe and free from fear,

Thou art in error. Grant that he is held

Imprisoned fast in Lethe's lowest depths,

And must forever feel the bonds of Styx :

Would he, thy sire, who by his spreading sway

Encroaches on the sea, who gives their laws 150

Unto a hundred peoples, e'er permit

So great a crime as this to lie unknown ?

Keen is a parent's watchful care. And yet,

Suppose that by our craft and guile we hide

i;4 The Tragedies of Seneca

This crime from him: what of thy mother's sire,
Who Hoods the earth with his illuming rays? 155

And what of him who makes the earth to quake,
The l>olts of Aetna flashing in his band,
The father of the gods? Ami dosl thou think
That it can lie that thou couldst hide thy sin
From these thy grandsires, all-beholding ones ?
Hut even should the favor of the gods,

Complaisant, hide thy shame from all the world; 160

Though to thy lust alone should fall that grace
Denied to other crimes: still must thou fear.
Whal of that iver-present punishment,
The terror of the soul that knows its guilt,
' Is stained with crime and fearful of itself?
Some women have with safety sinned, but none
With peace of soul. Then quench these flames, I pray, 165
Of impious love, and shun this monstrous crime
Which no barbaric land has ever done,
No Getan wandering on his lonely plains,
No savage Taurian, no Scythian.
Expel from thy chaste soul this hideous thing,
And, mindful of thy mother's sin, avoid 170

Such monstrous unions. Wouldst in marriage give
Thyself to son and father ? Wouldst thou take
In thine incestuous womb a progeny
So basely mixed ? Then go the length of sin:
O'erthrow all nature with thy shameful fires.
Why should the monsters cease ? Why empty stands
Thy brother's labyrinth ? Shall all the world 175

Be shocked with prodigies, shall nature's laws
Be scorned, whene'er a Cretan woman loves ?
Phaedra: I know that what thou say'st is true, dear nurse;
But raging passion forces me to take
The path of sin. Full consciously my soul
Goes headlong on its downward way, ofttimes
With backward glance, sane counsel seeking still,
Without avail. So, when the mariner 180

Would sail his ship against the boisterous waves,
His toil is all in vain, and, vanquished quite,

Hippolytus or Phaedra

x75

The ship drifts onward with the hurrying tide.
I JFor what can reason do when passion rules,

"'When love, almighty, domiuates the soul ?
The winged god is lord through all the earth,
And with his flames unquenchable the heart
Of Jove himself is burned. The god of war
Has felt his fire; and Vulcan too, that god
Who forges Jove's three-forked thunderbolts;
Yea, he, who in the hold of Aetna huge
Is lord of ever-blazing furnaces,

i By this small spark is burned. Apollo, too,

"iWho sends his arrows with unerring aim,
Was pierced by Cupid's still more certain darts.
For equally in heaven and earth the god
Is powerful.
Nurse: The god! 'Tis vicious lust

That hath his godhead framed; and, that its ends
More fully may be gained, it has assigned
To its unbridled love the specious name,
Divinity! 'Tis Venus' son, in sooth,
Sent wandering through all the earth ! He flies
Through empty air and in his boyish hands
His deadly weapon bears! Though least of gods,
He holds the widest sway! Such vain conceits
The love-mad soul adopts, love's goddess feigns,
And Cupid's bow. Whoe'er too much enjoys
The smiles of fortune and in ease is lapped,
Is ever seeking unaccustomed joys.
Then that dire comrade of a high estate,
Inordinate desire, comes in. The feast *
Of yesterday no longer pleases; now
A home of sane and simple living, food'
Of humble sort, are odious. Oh, win-
Does this destructive pest so rarely come
To lowly homes, but chooses rather homes

/Of luxury? And why does modest love
Beneath the humble roof abide, and bless
With wholesome intercourse the common throng?

■ Reading, cibus.

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190

io5

200

205

210

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The Trai.i mi s of Seneca

Nurse:

Phaedra:
Xitrse:

Why do the poor restrain their appetites,
Whereas the rich, on empire propped, desire

M.ue than is right. Who wields t<><> much of power 215

I >i sires to gain what is beyond his power.
What is befitting to thy high estate

Thou knowest well. Then fitting reverence show
To thy returning husband's sovereignty.

Phaedra: The sovereignty of love is over me,

The highest rule of all. My lord's return,

I fear it not; for never more has he,

Who once within the silent depths of night 220

Has plunged, beheld again the light of day.

Trust not the power of Dis; for though his realm

He closely bar, and though the Stygian dog

Keep watch and ward upon the baleful doors,

Theseus can always walk forbidden ways.

Perchance he'll give indulgence to my love. 225

But he was harsh e'en to a modest wife;

His heavy hand Anliope has known.

But grant that thou canst bend thy angry lord:

Canst bend as well the stubborn soul of him,

Hippolytus, who hates the very name 230

Of womankind ? Inexorable his resolve

To spend his life unwedded. He so shuns

The sacred rites of marriage, thou wouldst know
iThat he of Amazonian stock was born.

Though on the tops of snowy hills he hide,

Or swiftly course along the ragged cliffs,

Through forests deep, o'er mountains, 'tis my will 235

To follow him.

And will he turn again,

And yield himself unto thy sweet caress ?

Or will he lay aside his modesty

At thy vile love's behest ? Will he give o'er

His hate of womankind for thee alone,

On whose account, perchance, he hates them all ?
Phaedra: Can he not be by any prayers o'ercome ?
Xitrse: He's wild. 240

Phaedra: Yes, but the beasts are tamed by love.

Phaedra:

Xitrse:

Hippolytus or Phaedra

177

Nurse:

Phaedra

Xttrse:

Phaedra

Xitrse:

Phaedra,

X arse:

Phaedra

Xurse:

Phaedra

Xurse:

Phaedra

Nurse:

Phaedra

Xurse:

Phaedra.

Nurse:

He'll flee.

Through Ocean's self I'll follow him.

Thy sire remember.

And my mother too.

Women he hates.

Then I'll no rival fear.

Thy husband comes.

With him Pirithoiis!

Thy sire! 245

To Ariadne he was kind.

O child, by these white locks of age, I pray,

This care-filled heart, these breasts that suckled thee,

Put off this rage; to thine own rescue come.

The greater part of life is will to live.

Shame has not wholly fled my noble soul. 250

*I yield: let love, which will not be controlled,

Be conquered. Nor shalt thou, fair fame, be stained.

This way alone is left, sole hope of woe:
s Theseus I'll follow, and by death shun sin.

Oh, check, my child, this wild, impetuous thought; 255

Be calm. For now I think thee worthy life,

Because thou hast condemned thyself to death.
"I I am resolved to die, and only seek
1 The mode of death. Shall I my spirit free

By twisted rope, or fall upon the sword,

Or shall I leap from yonder citadel ? 260

Shall my old age permit thee thus to die

Self-slain ? Thy deadly, raging purpose stay.

No one may easily come back to life.
CNq argument can stay the will of one 265

^Who has resolved to die, and ought to die.

Quick, let me arm myself in honor's cause.

Sole comfort of my weary age, my child,

If such unruly passion sways thy heart,
' Away with reputation ! 'Tis a thing

Which rarely with reality agrees;

It smiles upon the ill-deserving man, 270

And from the good withholds his meed of praise.

Let us make trial of that stubtorn soul.

i;s

The Tragedies of Seneca

Mine In- the task to approach the savage youth,
And bend bis will relentless to our own.

Chorus: Thou goddess, child of the foaming sea,

Thou mother of love, how fierce are the flames, 275

And how sharp are the darts of thy petulant boy;
I low deadly of aim his bow.
1 >eep to the heart the poison sinks

When the veins are imbued with his hidden flame; 280

No gaping wound upon the breast
Does his arrow leave; but far within
It burns with consuming fire.
No peace or rest does he give; world wide
Are his flying weapons sown abroad:

The shores that see the rising sun, 285

And the land that lies at the goal of the west ;
The south where raging Cancer glows,
And the land of the cold Arcadian Bear
With its ever-wandering tribes — all know
, And have felt the fires of love. 290

I The hot blood of youth he rouses to madness,
The smouldering embers of age he rekindles,
And even the innocent breasts of maids
Are stirred by passion unknown.
He bids the immortals desert the skies
And dwell on the earth in forms assumed. 295

,> For love, Apollo kept the herds
Of Thessaly's king, and, his lyre unused,
He called to his bulls on the gentle pipe.
How oft has Jove himself put on
The lower forms of life, who rules

The sky and the clouds. Now a bird he seems, 300

With white wings hovering, with voice
More sweet than the song of the dying swan;
Now wdth lowering front, as a wanton bull,
He offers his back to the sport of maids;
And soon through his brother's waves he floats, 305

With his hoofs like sturdy oars, and his breast
"-; Stoutly opposing the waves, in fear

Hippolytus or Phaedra 179

)For the captured maid he bears. For love,

The shining goddess of the night

Her dim skies left, and her glittering car 310

To her brother allotted to guide. Untrained

In managing the dusky steeds,

Within a shorter circuit now

He learns to direct his course. Meanwhile

The nights no more their accustomed space

Retained, and the dawn came slowly back, 315

Since 'neath a heavier burden now

The axle trembled. Love compelled

Alcmena's son to lay aside

His quiver and the threat'ning spoil

Of that great lion's skin he bore,

And have his fingers set with gems,

His shaggy locks in order dressed. 320

His limbs were wrapped in cloth of gold,

His feet with yellow sandals bound;

And with that hand which bore but now

The mighty club, he wound the thread

Which from his mistress' spindle fell.

The sight all Persia saw, and they 325

'vWho dwell in Lydia's fertile realm —

The savage lion's skin laid by,

And on those shoulders, once the prop

For heaven's vast dome, a gauzy cloak
-(Of Tyrian manufacture spread.

Accursed is love, its victims know, 330

And all too strong. In every land,

In the all -encircling briny deep,

In the airy heavens where the bright stars course,

There pitiless love holds sway.

The sea-green band of the Nereids 335

Have felt his darts in their deepest waves,

And the waters of ocean cannot quench

Their flames. The birds know the passion of love,

And mighty bulls, with its fire inflamed,

Wage furious battle, while the herd 340

Look on in wonder. Even stags,

i So

The Tragedies of Seneca

Chorus:

Nurse:

\ Though timorous of heart, will fight

| If for their males they fear, while loud
Resound the snortings of their wrath.
When with love the Btriped tigers burn,
The swarthy Indian cowers in fear. 345

For love the hoar whets his deadly tusks
And his huge mouth is white with foam.
The African lions toss their manes
When love inflames their hearts, and the woods
Resound with their savage roars. 35°

The monsters of the raging deep,
And those great beasts, the elephants,
Feel the sway of love; since nature's power
Claims everything, and nothing spares.
Hate perishes when love commands,

And ancient feuds yield to his touch. 355

Why need I more his sway approve,
When even stepdames yield to love ?

ACT II

[Enter Nurse from the palace.]
Speak, nurse, the news thou bring'st. How fares the queen ?
Do her fierce fires of love know any end ?
I have no hope that such a malady 360

^ Can be relieved; her maddened passion's flames
Will endless burn. A hidden, silent fire
Consumes her, and her raging love, though shut
Within her heart, is by her face betrayed.
Her eyes dart fire; anon, her sunken gaze
Avoids the light of day. Her restless soul 365

Can find no pleasure long in anything.
Her aimless love allows her limbs no rest.
Now, as with dying, tottering steps, she goes,
And scarce can hold her nodding head erect;
And now lies down to sleep. But, sleepless quite,
She spends the night in tears. Now does she bid
Me lift her up, and straight to lay her down; 370

To loose her locks, and bind them up again.
In restless mood she constantly demands

Hippolytus or Phaedra

181

Fresh robes. She has no care for food or health.

With failing strength she walks, with aimless feet. 375

Her old-time strength is gone; no longer shines

The ruddy glow of health upon her face.

Care feeds upon her limbs; her trembling steps

Betray her weakness, and the tender grace

Of her once blooming beauty is no more,
o
j Her eyes, which once with Phoebus' brilliance shone,

No longer gleam with their ancestral fires. 380

Her tears flow ever, and her cheeks are wet

With constant rain; as when, on Taurus' top,

The snows are melted by a warming shower.

But look, the palace doors are opening,

And she, reclining on her couch of gold, 385

And sick of soul, refuses one by one

The customary garments of her state.
Phaedra: ,Remove, ye slaves, those bright and gold-wrought robes;
vAway with Tyrian purple, and the webs

Of silk whose threads the far-off eastern tribes

From leaves of trees collect. Gird high my robes; 390

I'll wear no necklace, nor shall snowy pearls,

The gift of Indian seas, weigh down my ears.

No nard from far Assyria shall scent

My locks; thus loosely tossing let them fall

Around my neck and shoulders; let them stream

Upon the wind, by my swift running stirred. 395

Upon my left I'll wear a quiver girt,

And in my right hand will I brandish free

A hunting-spear of Thessaly; for thus

The mother of Hippolytus was clad.

So did she lead her hosts from the frozen shores

Of Pontus, when to Attica she came, 400

From distant Tamils or Maeotis' banks,

Her comely locks down Bowing from a knot,

Her side protected by a crescent shield.

Like her would I betake me to the woods.
Chorus: Cease thy laments, for grief will not avail

The wretched. Rather seek to appease the will 405

Of that wild virgin goddess of the woods.

iSj The Tragedies of Seneca

Nurse [to Diana]: 0 queen of forests, thou who dwcll'st alone
i >n mountain tops, and thou who only art
\Within their desert haunts adored, convert,
We pray, to better issue these sad fears.

0 mighty goddess of the woods and groves,

bright star of heaven, thou glory of the night, 410

Whose torch, alternate with the sun, illumes
The sky, thou three-formed I let ate; — Oh, smile,
We pray, on these our hopes; the unbending soul
Of stern Hippolytus subdue for us.
Teach him to love; our passion's mutual flame
May he endure. May he give ready ear

To our request. His hard and stubborn heart 415

Do thou make soft to us. Enthral his mind.
Though stern of soul, averse to love, and fierce,
May he yet yield himself to Venus' laws.
Bend all thy powers to this. So may thy face
Be ever clear, and through the rifted clouds
Mayst thou sail on with crescent shining bright;
So, when thou driv'st thy chariot through the sky, 420

May no Thessalian mummeries prevail
To draw thee from thy nightly journey down;
And may no shepherd boast himself of thee.
Lo, thou art here in answer to our prayer;
[Hippolytus is seen approaching.]

1 see Hippolytus himself, alone,
Approaching to perform the yearly'rites

To Dian due. 425

[To herself.]
Why dost thou hesitate ?
Moth time and place are given by fortune's lot.
CUse all thy arts. Why do I quake with fear?
It is no easy task to do the deed
Enjoined on me. Yet she, who serves a queen,
Must banish from her heart all thought of right;
For sense of shame ill serves a royal will. 430

[Enter Hippolytus.]
Hippolytus: Why dost thou hither turn thine aged feet,
O faithful nurse ? Why is thy face^so sad,

Hippolytus or Phaedra 183

Thy brow so troubled ? Truly is my sire
In safety, Phaedra safe, and their two sons.
Xursc: Thou need'st not fear for them; the kingdom stands 435

In prosperous estate, and all thy house
Rejoices in the blessings of the gods.
But Oh, do thou with greater kindness look
l"p >n thy fortune. For my heart is vexed
And anxious for thy sake; for thou thyself
With grievous sufferings dost bruise thy soul.
If fate compels it, one may be forgiven 440

For wretchedness; but if, of his own will,
A man prefers to live in misery,
Brings tortures on himself, then he deserves
To lose those gifts he knows not how to use.
Be mindful of thy youth; relax thy mind.
Lift high the blazing torch on festal nights;
Let Bacchus free thee from thy weighty cares; 445

Enjoy this time which speeds so swiftly by.
Now is the time when love comes easily,
And smiles on youth. Come, let thy soul rejoice.
Why dost thou lie upon a lonely couch ?
Dissolve in pleasures that grim mood of thine,
And snatch the passing joys;1 let loose the reins. 450

Forbid that these, the best days of thy life,
Should vanish unenjoyed. Its proper hue
Has God allotted to each time of life,
And leads from step to step the age of man.
So joy becomes the young, a face severe
The aged. Why dost thou restrain thyself,
And strangle at their birth the joys of life ?
That crop rewards the farmer's labor most 455

Which in the young and tender sprouting-time
Runs riot in the fields. With lofty top
That tree will overspread the neighboring grove,
Which no begrudging hand cuts back or prunes.
So do our inborn powers a richer fruit
Of praise and glory bear, if liberty,
Unchecked and l>oun<!less,~feed the'noble soul. 460

■ Reading, luxus.

I

ivi The Tragedies of Seneca

Thou, harsh, uncouth, and ignoranl of life,
Dost spend thy youth I<> joy and love unknown
Think'st thou thai this is man's allotted task,
To suffer hardships, curl) the rushing steeds,
And fighl like savage beasts In Moody war? 465

When be beheld the boundless greed of death,
The mighty father of the world ordained
A means by which the race might be renewed.
Supjxise the power of Venus over men

Should (case, who doth supply and still renew 470

The stream of life, then would this lovely world
Become a foul, unsightly thing indeed:
The sea would bear no fish within its waves,
The woods no beasts of prey, the air no birds;
But through its empty space the winds alone
Would rove. How various the forms of death 475

\That seize and feed upon our mortal race:
JThe wrecking sea, the sword, and treachery!
But say that these are lacking: still we fall
Of our own gravity to gloomy Styx.
Suppose our youth should choose a matelcss life,
And live in childless state: then all this world
Of teeming life which thou dost see, would live
This generation only, and would fall 480

In ruins on itself. Then spend thy life
As nature doth direct; frequent the town,
And live in friendly union with thy kind.
Hippolytiis: There is no life so free, so innocent,

Which better cherishes the ancient rites,
Than that which spurns the crowded ways of men
And seeks the silent places of the woods. 485

His soul no maddening greed of gain inflames
Who on the lofty levels of the hills
His blameless pleasures finds. No fickle breath
Of passing favor frets him here, no sting
Of base ingratitude, no poisonous hate.

,He fears no kingdom's laws; nor, in the quest 490

Of power, does he pursue the phantom shapes
Of fame and wealth. From hope and fear alike

Hippolytus or Phaedra 185

Is he amoved. No black and biting spite

With base, malicious tooth preys on him here.

He never hears of those base, shameful things

That spawn amid the city's teeming throngs.

It is not his with guilty heart to quake

At everj' sound; he need not hide his thoughts 495

With guileful words; in pride of sinful wealth
/ He seeks to own no lordly palace propped

Upon a thousand pillars, with its beams
\ In flaunting arrogance incased with gold.
\ No streams of blood his pious altars drench;
\ No hecatombs of snowy bullocks stand 500

\ Foredoomed to death, their foreheads sprinkled o'er

With sacred meal; but in the spacious fields,

Beneath the sky, in fearless innocence,

He wanders lord of all. His only guile,

To set the cunning snare for beasts of pray;

And, when o'erspent with labors of the chase,

He soothes his body in the shining stream

Of cool Ilissus. Now swift Alpheus' banks 505

He skirts, and now the lofty forest's deep,

Dense places treads, where Lerna, clear and cool,

Pours forth her glimmering streams.

Here twittering birds make all the woods resound,

And through the branches of the ancient beech

The leaves are all a-flutter in the breeze. 510

How sweet upon some vagrant river's bank,

J >r on the verdant turf, to lie at length,
vAnd quaff one's fill of deep, delicious sleep,

Whether in hurrying floods some copious stream

Pours down its waves, or through the vernal flowers

Some murmuring brook sings sweetly as it flows.

The windfall apples of the wood appease 515

His hunger, while the ripening berries plucked
^From wayside thickets grant an easy meal.
^He gladly shuns the luxuries of kings.

Let mighty lords from anxious cups of gold

Their nectar quaff; for him how sweet to catch

With naked hand the water of the spring! 520

186 T II B T R A G EDI i: s o t Seneca

I

\

V;

More certain slumber soothes him, though his couch
Be hard, if free bom care he lay him down.
With guilty soul he seeks do shameful deeds

In nooks remote upon some hidden couch,
Nor timorous hides in labyrinthine cell;

He courts the open air and light of day,

And lives before the conscious eye of heaven. 52

'Such was the life, I think, the ancients lived,
Those primal men who mingled with the gods.
They were not blinded by the love of gold;
No sacred stone divided off the fields
And lotted each his own in judgment there.
Nor yet did vessels rashly plow the seas; 530

But each his native waters knew alone.
^r Then cities were not girt with massive walls,

i** With frequent towers set; no soldier there

To savage arms his hands applied, nor burst
The close-barred gates with huge and heavy stones
From ponderous engines hurled. As yet the earth 535

Endured no master's rule, nor felt the sway
Of laboring oxen yoked in common toil ;
But all the fields, self-fruitful, fed mankind,
Who took and asked no more. The woods gave wealth,
And shady grottoes natural homes supplied.
Unholy greed first broke these peaceful bonds, 540

And headlong wrath, and lust which sets aflame
The hearts of men. Then came the cruel thirst
For empire; and the weak became the prey

)Of strong, and might was counted right. At first
Men fought with naked fists, but soon they turned 545

Rough clubs and stones to use of arms. Not yet
Were comel spears with slender points of iron,
And long, sharp-pointed swords, and crested helms.
Such weapons wrath invented. Warlike Mars
Produced new arts of strife, and forms of death 550

In countless numbers made. Thence streams of gore
Stained every land, and reddened every sea.
Then crime, o'erleaping every bound, ran wild;
Invaded every home. No hideous deed

Hippolytus or Phaedra 187

Was left undone: but brothers by the hand 555

Of brothers fell, parents by children's hands,

Husbands by wives', and impious mothers killed

Their helpless babes. Stepmothers need no words;

The very beasts are kind compared with them.

Of all these evils woman was the cause,

The leader she. She with her wicked arts

Besets the minds of men; and all for her 560

And her vile, lustful ways, unnumbered towns

Lie low in smoking heaps; whole nations rush

To arms; and kingdoms, utterly o'erthrown,

Drag down their ruined peoples in their fall.

Though I should name no other, Aegeus' wife

Would prove all womankind a cursed race.

Nurse: Why blame all women for the crimes of few ? 565

Hippolytus: I hate them all. I dread and shun and curse
Them all. Whether from reason, instinct, blindj
And causeless madness, this I know — I hate.
And sooner shall you fire and water wed;
Sooner shall dangerous quicksands friendly turn
And give safe anchorage; and sooner far 570

Shall Tethys from her utmost western bounds
Bring forth the shining day, and savage wolves
Smile kindly on the timid does, than I,
O'ercome, feel ought but hate to womankind.

Nurse: But oft doth love put reins on stubborn souls,

And all their hatred to affection turns. 575

, Behold thy mother's realm of warlike dames;
{ Yet even they the sway of passion know.
Of this thy birth itself is proof enough.

Hippolytus: My comfort for my mother's loss is this,
That now I'm free to hate all womankind.

Nurse: As some hard crag, on every side unmoved, 580

Resists the waves, and dashes backward far
The opposing floods, so he doth spurn my words.
But hither Phaedra comes with hasty step,
Impatient of delay. What fate is hers ?
Or to what action doth her madness tend ?

[Phaedra enters and jails fainting to the earth.]

i ss The Tragedies of Seneca

Hut see, in sudden tainting in Bhe falls, 585

And deathlike pallor overspreads her face.
[Hippolytus hastens to raise her up in his arms.]

Lift uj) thy face, Bpeak out, my daughter, see,

Thine own Hippolytus embraces thee.
Phaedra [recovering from Iter joint]: Who gives me back to griefs, and
floods again

My soul with heavy care ? I [ow well for me

Had I sunk down to death! 590

Hippolytus: But why, poor soul,

Dost thou lament the gift of life restored ?
Phaedra [aside]: Come dare, attempt, fulfil thine own command.

Speak out, and fearlessly. Who asks in fear

Suggests a prompt refusal. Even now

The greater part of my offense is done.

Too late my present modesty. My love, 595

I know, is base; but if I persevere,

Perchance the marriage torch will hide my sin.
~) Success makes certain sins respectable.

Come now, begin.

[To Hippolytus].
Bend lower down thine ear,

I pray; if any comrade be at hand,

Let him depart, that we may speak alone. 600

Hippolytus: Behold, the place is free from witnesses.
Phaedra: My lips refuse to speak my waiting words;

A mighty force compels my utterance,

A mightier holds it back. Ye heavenly powers,

I call ye all to witness, what I wish — 605

Hippolytus: Thy heart desires and cannot tell its wish ?
Phaedra: Light cares speak out, the weighty have no words.
Hippolytus: Into my ears, my mother, tell thy cares.
Phaedra: The name of mother is too proud and high;

My heart dictates some humbler name than that. 610

Pray call me sister — slave, Hippolytus.

Yes, slave I'd be. I'll bear all servitude;

And shouldst thou bid me tread the driven snows,

To walk along high Pindus' frozen peaks,

I'd not refuse; no, not if thou shouldst bid

H i p p o l y't us or Phaedra 189

Me go through fire, and serried ranks of foes, 615

I would not hesitate to bare my breast

Unto the naked swords. Take thou the power

Which was consigned to me. Make me thy slave.

Rule thou the state, and let me subject be.

It is no woman's task to guard this realm

Of many towns. Do thou, who in the flower 620

Of youth rejoicest, rule the citizens

With strong paternal sway. But me receive

Into thy arms, and there protect thy slave

And suppliant. My widowhood relieve.
Hippolylits: May God on high this omen dark avert !

My father will in safety soon return.
Phaedra: Not so: the king of that fast -holding realm 625

And silent Styx has never opened back

The doors of earth to those who once have left

The realms above. Think'st thou that he will loose

The ravisher of his couch ? Unless, indeed,

Grim Pluto has at last grown mild to love.
Hippolylits: The righteous gods of heaven will bring him back.

But while the gods still hold our prayers in doubt, 630

My brothers will I make my pious care,

And thee as well. Think not thou art bereft;

For I will fill for thee my father's place.
Phaedra [aside]: Oh, hope of lovers, easily beguiled!

Deceitful love! Has he1 not said enough ? 635

I'll ply him now with prayers.

[To Hippolytus.]

Oh, pity me.

Hear thou the prayers which I must only think.

I long to utter them, but am ashamed.
Hippolytus: What is thy trouble then ?
Phaedra: A trouble mine,

Which thou wouldst scarce believe could vex the soul

Of any stepdame.
Hippolytus: Speak more openly;

In doubtful words thy meaning thou dost wrap.
{Phaedra: My maddened heart with burning love is scorched; ! 640

■ Reading, dixit.

190 The Tragedies of Seneca

My inmost ni;m<>\v is devoured with love;
/Anil through my veins and vitals steals the file,

/ As when the Barnes through roomy holds of ships

Run darting. 645

Hippolytus: Surely with a modest love

For Theseus thou dost burn.
Phaedra: Hippolytus,

'Tis thus with me: I love those former looks
-JL Of Theseus, which in early manhood once

He wore, when first a beard began to show

Upon his modest cheeks, what time he saw

The Cretan monster's hidden lurking-place,

And by a thread his labyrinthine way 650

Retraced. Oh, what a glorious sight he was!

Soft fillets held in check his flowing locks,

And modesty upon his tender face

Glowed blushing red. His soft -appearing arms

But half concealed his muscles' manly strength.

J lis face was like thy heavenly Phoebe's face,
"j Or my Apollo's, or 'twas like thine own. 655

Like thee, like thee he was when first he pleased

His enemy. Just so he proudly held

His head erect; still more in thee shines out

That beauty unadorned; in thee I find

Thy father all. And yet thy mother's stern

And lofty beauty has some share in thee;

Her Scythian firmness tempers Grecian grace. 660

If with thy father thou hadst sailed to Crete,

My sister would have spun the thread for thee

And not for him. O sister, wheresoe'er

In heaven's starry vault thou shinest, thee,

Oh, thee I call to aid my hapless cause,

So like thine own. One house has overthrown 665

Two sisters, thee the father, me the son.
[To Hippolytus.]

Behold, as suppliant, fallen to thy knees,

A royal princess kneels. Without a spot

Of sin, unstained and innocent, was I;

And thou alone hast wrought the change in me.

1

Hippolytus or Phaedra 191

See, at thy feet I knee] and pray, resolved
This day shall end my misery or life. 670

Oh, pity her who loves thee —
Hippolytus: God in heaven,

Great ruler of all gods, dost thou this sin
So calmly hear, so calmly see ? If now
Thou hurlest not thy bolt with deadly hand,
What shameful cause will ever send it forth ?
Let all the sky in shattered ruins fall,

And hide the light of day in murky clouds. 675

Let stars turn back, and trace again their course
Athwart their proper ways. And thou, great star
Of stars, thou radiant Sun, let not thine eyes
Behold the impious shame of this thy stock;
But hide thy face, and to the darkness flee
Why is thy hand, O king of gods and men, 680

Inactive? Why by forked lightning's brands
Is not the world in flames ? Direct thy bolts
At me; pierce me. Let that fierce darting flame
Consume me quite, for mine is all the blame.
I ought to die, for I have favor found
In my stepmother's eyes.

[To Phaedra.]

Did I seem one
. To thee to do this vile and shameful thing?
Did I seem easy fuel to thy fire, 685

I only ? Has my virtuous life deserved
Such estimate? Thou, worse than all thy kind!
Thou woman, who hast in thy heart conceived
A deed more shameful than thy mother's sin,
Whose womb gave monstrous birth; thou worse than she!
She stained herself with vilest lust, and long 690

Concealed the deed. But all in vain: at last,
Her two-formed child revealed his mother's crime,
And by his fierce bull-visage proved her guilt.
Of such a womb and mother art thou lx>rn.
Oh, thrice and four times blessed is their lot
Whom hate and treachery give o'er and doom 695

To death. O father, how I envy thee!

192 T 11 r Tragedies 01 Seneca

'

Thy stepdame was the Colchian; hut this,
This woman is a greater curse than she.
Phaedra: I dearly Bee the destiny of my house:

We follow ever what we should avoid.
^1 But I have given over self -control;

I'll follow thee through lire, through raging sea, 700

1 >'er ragged cliffs, through roaring torrents wild —

Wherever ihoii dost go, in mad pursuit
I shall he borne. Again, () haughty one,
I fall in suppliance and embrace thy knees.
I lippolytiis: Away from my chaste body with thy touch

Impure! What more? She falls upon my breast ! 705

I'll draw my sword and smite as she deserves.
See, by her twisted locks, I backward bend
Her shameless head. No blood more worthily
Was ever spilled, O goddess of the bow,
Upon thy altars.
Phaedra: Now, Hippolytus, 710

Thou dost fulfil the fondest wish of mine;
jThou sav'st me from my madness; greater far
Than all my hopes, that by the hands I love,
By thine own hands, I perish ere I sin.
Hippolytus: Then live, be gone! Thou shalt gain naught from me.
And this my sword, defiled by thy base touch,
No more shall hang upon my modest side.
[He throws his sword frotn him.]
What Tanais will make me clean again ? 715

Or what Maeotis rushing to the sea,
I With its barbaric waves ? Not Neptune's self,
• With all his ocean's waters could avail
/ To cleanse so foul a stain. O woods! O beasts!
[He rushes off into the depths of the forest.]
Xurse [in soliloquy, while Phaedra seems to have fallen in a fainting fit]:
Now is her fault discovered. Soul of mine,
Why dost thou stand in dumb amaze ? This crime
We must throw back upon the man himself, 720

And charge him with a guilty love, ourselves.
vSin must be hid by sin. The safest way
Us to go straight forward on the course you fear.

f

HlFPOLYTUS OR PHAEDRA I93

Who is to know, since no one saw the deed,
Whether we dared, ourselves, or suffered ill ?

[Raising In r voice in a loud cry.]
Help! Help! ye dames of Athens! Faithful band 725

Of slaves, bring aid! Behold Hippolytus,
With vile adulter}', attacks the queen!
He has her in his power! He threatens death !
At point of sword he storms her chastity!
There, he has gone in haste, and left behind
His sword in trembling, panic-stricken flight.
This proof of guilt we'll keep. But first restore 730

The stricken queen to life. Let all remain
Just as they are, her locks disheveled, torn,
To show how great a wrong she has endured.
Back to the city bear her now. Revive,
My mistress. Why dost seek to harm thyself
And shun thy comrades' eyes. For be thou sure
Not circumstance but will can make impure. 735

[Exeunt.]
Chorus: He fled away like the storm-blast wild,

More swift than cloud-compelling winds;

And swifter than the comet's torch,

When, driven before the wind, it speeds

With long-drawn, trailing fires. 740

Let fame, that boasts of her olden times,

Compare with thine all ancient charms:

Beyond compare does thy beauty shine,

Clear and bright as the full-orbed moon,

When, with waxing hours in splendor joined, 745

iNight long she speeds her shining car,

And her ruddy face so brightly gleams,

That the fires of the lesser stars are dimmed.

He is fair as the messenger of night,

When he leads the evening shadows in,

Himself new bathed in the ocean's foam; 750

Or when, the darkness put to flight,
_He heralds the dawn — bright Lucifer.

And thou of the thyrsus, Indian Bacchus,

With the flowing locks of endless youth,

1

6

hi The Tragedies of Seneca

With thine ivy dad Bpeai the tigers driving, 755

And thy turban Bel <>n thy horned head:
Not tlms will thy glorious locks outshine
The unadorned hair of ffippolytus.

And admire bo! thy beauty over much,
For fame has spread the story far,

How Phaedra's sister preferred to thee, 760

O Bromius, a mortal man.
Ah beauty, a doubtful boon art thou,
The gift of a fleeting hour! How swift
On flying feet thou glidest away!
So flowery meadows of the spring

The summer's burning heat devours, 765

When midday's raging sun rides high,
}And night's brief round is hurried through.
As the lilies languish on their stems,
So pleasing tresses fail the head;

And swiftly is the radiance dimmed 770

Which gleams from the tender cheeks of youth !
Each day hath its spoil from the lovely form;
For beauty flees and soon is gone.
Who then would trust a gift so frail ?
Nay, use its joys, while still thou mayst;
For silent time will soon destroy thee, 775

And hours to baser hours steal on.
Why seek the desert wilds ? Thy form
Is no more safe in pathless ways.
If in the forest's depths thou hide,
When Titan brings the noonday heat,
The saucy Naids will surround thee, 780

Who are wont in their clear springs to snare
The lovely youth; and 'gainst thy sleep
The wanton goddesses of groves,
The Dryads, who the roving Pans
Drive in pursuit, will mischief plot.

Or else that glowing star, whose birth 785

The old Arcadians beheld,
Will see thee from the spangled sky,
And straight forget to drive her car.

Hippolytus or Phaedra 195

Of late she blushed a fiery red,
And yet no staining cloud obscured

Her shining disk. Hut we, in fear

For her troubled face, clashed cymbals loud, 790

Deeming her harried by the charms

Of Thcssaly. But for thee alone

Was all her toil; thou wast the cause

Of her long delay; for, seeing thee,

The night's fair goddess checked her course.

If only winter's blasts would beat 795

Less fiercely on that face of thine;

If less it felt the sun's hot rays,

More bright than Parian marble's gleam

Would it appear. How beautiful

The manly sternness in thy face,

Thy brow's dark frowning majesty!
' Compare with Phoebus' that fair neck. 800

I His hair o'er his shoulders flowing free,

Unbound by fillet, ornaments

And shelters him. A shaggy brow

Becomes thee best; thee, shorter locks,

In tossing disarray. 'Tis thine

The rough and warlike gods to meet 805

In strife, and by thy mighty strength

To overcome them. Even now,

The muscles of a Hercules

Thy youthful arms can match. Thy breast

Is broader than the breast of Mars.

If on a horny-footed steed

Thou'rt pleased to mount, not Castor's self 810

More easily could hold in check

The Spartan Cyllarus.

Take thong in hand; with all thy strength

Discharge the javelin: not so far,

Though they be trained to hurl the dart,

Will Cretans send the slender reed. 815

Or if it please thee into air,

In Parthian style, to shoot thy darts,

None will descend without its bird,

iq6 The Tragedies of Seneca

Fixed deep within the throbbing breast;

From out the verj clouds thy prey

Thou wilt regain.

By few has beauty been possessed 820

(The voice of history proclaims)

Without sonic loss or suffering.

But thee, unharmed, may God pass by

More merciful, and may thy form,

Now famous for its beauty, show

At last the marks of ugly age.
What crime would woman's fury leave undared?
She plans against this harmless youth some fraud. 825

Behold her scheme! For by her tumbled hair,
All torn, she seeks sure credence for her tale.
She wets her cheeks with tears; and every art
That woman's shrewdness knows, does she employ.
[A man is seen approaching, who proves to be Theseus.]
But who is that who comes with grace of kings
Displayed upon his face, his lofty head 830

Held high in kingly pride ? In countenance,
How like the young Pirithoiis he seems,
Were not his cheeks too deadly pale and wan,
And if his hair fell not in locks unkempt.
Behold, 'tis Theseus' self returned to earth.

ACT III

Theseus: At last have I escaped from endless night, 835

That shadowy realm which close confines the dead.
And now my eyes can scarce endure the light
Which I have long desired. Eleusin now
Has four times reaped her ripened grain, the gift
Triptolemus bestowed; thrice and again
Has Libra measured equal day and night,
Since dubious battling with an unknown fate 840

Has held me in the toils of life and death.
To me, though dead to all things else, one part
Of life remained, the consciousness of ill.
Alcides was the end. When he came down
To bring the dog by force from Tartarus,

Hippolytus or Phaedra

197

He brought me also to the upper world. 845

But ah, my wearied frame has lost the strength

It had of old; I walk with faltering steps.

Alas! how great a task it was to reach

The world of light from lower Phlegethon,

To flee from death and follow Hercules!

But why this sound of wailing in my ears ? 850

Let someone tell; for agonies of woe

And grief and lamentations sad I meet

Upon the very threshold of my home —

A fitting welcome to a guest from hell.
Xnrsc: iThe queen is obstinately bent on death,

And scorns the strong remonstrance of our tears. 855

Theseus: Why should she die, her husband safe returned ?
Xurse: That very cause compels her speedy death.
Theseus: Thy words are dark and hide some weighty truth.

Speak out and tell what grief weighs down her soul.
Xurse: She tells her grief to none. Some secret woe 860

She hides within her heart, and is resolved

To take her secret with her to the grave.

But speed thee to her; there is need of haste.
Theseus: Unbar the close-shut portals of my house.

I The doors are opened and Theseus encounters his wife just within.]
Theseus [to Phaedra]: My queen, is't thus thou dost receive thy lord,

And welcome back thy husband long desired ? 865

Nay, put away the sword from thy right band,

And give me heart again. Reveal to me

The cause that forces thee to flee from life.
Phaedra: Alas, great Theseus, by thy kingly power,

And by thy children's souls, by thy return, 870

And by my ashes, suffer me to die.
Theseus: What cause compels thy death ?
Phaedra: The fruit of death

Would perish if I let its cause be known.
Theseus: None else shall hear it save myself alone.
Phaedra: A chaste wife fears her husband most of all.
Theseus: Speak out; I'll hide thy secret" in my heart. 875

Phaedra: The secret thou wouldst have another guard,

First guard thyself.

T ii i T B \ G E D i i s o !• S i \ r. c A

Theseus:

I dra:

Theseus:

Phaedra:

;eus:

Phaedra:

teus:

Phaedra:
Theseus:

Phaedra:

+

Theseus:
Phaedra:
Theseus:

Phaedra:

Theseus:

Phaedra:
Theseus:

N i chance of death thou'll find.
Di atfa cannol fail the hearl that's bent <>n death.
Confess what sin must be atoned by death.

My lifr. 880

Will not nay tears avail with thee?
That death is beat which one's own friends lament.
She still persists in silence. By the lash
And chains shall her old nurse be forced to tell
What she will not declare. Put her in chains.
Xow let the lash lay bare her hidden thoughts.
Hold, stay thy hand, for I myself will speak. 885

Why dost thou turn thy grieving face away,
.And hide the quickly rising shower of tears
Behind thy robe?

Thee, thee do I invoke,

0 father of the gods, and thee, O Sun,
Thou shining glory of the heavenly dome,

On whom as founder doth our house depend, 890

1 call ye both to witness that I strove

Against his prayers, though sorely tried. To threats

Of death my spirit did not yield; but force

O'ercame my body. This the shameful stain

Upon my honor which my blood must cleanse.

Come, tell, who hath defiled our honor so ?

Whom thou wouldst least expect. 895

But who is he ?
I wait to hear his name.

This sword shall tell,
Which in his terror at our loud laments,
The adulterer left, fearing the citizens.
Ah me ! What villainy do I behold ?
What monstrous deed is this ? The royal sword,
Its ivory hilt with tiny signs engraved,

Shines out, the glory of the Athenian race. 900

But he — where has he gone ?

These slaves have seen
How, borne on speeding feet, he fled away.
Oh, holy piety! O thou who reign'st
In heaven, and thou who rulest in the seas,

Hippolytus or Phaedra 199

Whence came this base infection of our race? 905

Was he of Grecian birth, or did he spring
J; From Scythian Taurus or some Colchian stream ?

The type reverts to its ancestral stock,

And blood ignoble but repeats its source.
f This is the madness of that savage race,

To scorn all lawful love, and prostitute 910

At last the long-chaste body to the crowd.

Oh, loathsome race, restrained by no good laws

Which milder climes revere! The very beasts

Shun love incestuous, and keep the laws

Of nature with instinctive chastity.

Where is that face, that feigned austerity, 915

That rough and careless garb that sought to ape

The ancient customs ? Where that aspect stern,

That sour severity which age assumes ?
-* O life, two-faced ! How thou dost hide thy thoughts !

For fairest faces cover foulest hearts;

fhe chaste demeanor hides inchastity; 920

he gentle, boldness; seeming goodness, sin.
alse men approve the truth; the faint of heart
Affect a blustering mood. O thou, of woods
Enamored, savage, rough and virgin pure,
Didst thou reserve thyself for me alone ?

On my couch first and with so fell a crime 925

Wast thou inclined to try thy manly powers ?
Now, now I thank the kindly gods of heaven
That long ago I slew Antiope;
That, when I went below to Stygian caves,
I did not leave thy mother for thy lust.
Go, get thee far away to unknown lands;

And there, though to her utmost bounds removed, 930

The earth should hem thee off by ocean's wastes;
Though thou shouldst dwell at the Antipodes;
Though to the frigid northern realms thou go,
And deep within her farthest caverns hide;
Or, though beyond the reach of winter placed, 935

And drifting snows, thou leave the boisterous threats
Of frosty Boreas in mad pursuit:

200 The Tragedies of Seneca

Thou still slialt meet thy fitting punishment.
Persistent shall I chase thee in thy flight
Through all thy hiding-places. Ways remote,
Hemmed in, secluded, hard and trackless ways,
I'll traverse in pursuit. No obstacle 940

Shall block my way. Thou know'st whence I return.
And whither spears cannot be hurled at thee
I'll hurl my prayers. My father of the sea
Once promised me that thrice I might prevail
With him in prayer, and ratified the boon
By oath upon the inviolable Styx.
[To Neptune.]
Thou ruler of the sea, the boon bestow, 945

And grant my prayer: let not Hippolytus
Live to behold another sun's bright rays,
But may he go to meet those shades of hell
Enraged at my escape. O father, now
I pray that aid which still I deprecate.

This last of thy three boons I would not use, 950

If I were not beset by grievous ills.
Amidst the depths of hell and dreadful Dis,
Amidst the infernal king's pursuing threats,
I did not call on thee. But now I claim
Thy promise, father. Why delay thine aid ?
Why are thy waves inactive ? Let the winds 955

cThat drive the blackening clouds bring darkness on;
Snatch stars and sky from sight; pour forth the sea;
Arouse thy watery monsters, and let loose
On him from ocean's depths thy swelling waves.
[Exit Theseus.]
Chorus: > Great nature, mother of the gods,

And thou, fire-girt Olympus' lord, 960

Who speedest through the flying skies

The scattered stars, the wandering ways

Of constellations, and the heavens

Upon their whirling axes turn'st:

Why is thy care so great to keep

The annual highways of the air, 965

That now the hoary frosts may strip

Hippolytus or Phaedra 201
*s

The woods of leaves, and now the trees

May spread once more their pleasant shade;

That now the summer's fervent heat

May ripen Ceres' gift, and soon 970

Her strength the Autumn may subdue?

But why, though thou dost rule so wide,

Though in thy hand the ponderous worlds

Are poised, and calmly wheel along

Their appointed ways, why dost thou shun

The affairs of men and have no care

For them? Art not solicitous 975

That good should prosper, and that sin

Receive its just deserts? But no:

■/Blind Fortune rules the affairs of men,

Dispensing with unthinking hand

Her gifts, oft favoring the worst. 980

And so the violent oppress

The innocent ; and fraud holds sway

In highest places. To the hands

Of brutish men the rabble most

Rejoice to trust their government;

The same they honor and they hate,

With fickle will. Sad virtue finds

Her recompense for righteousness

All gone away; and poverty, 985

Relentless, follows innocence;

While, deep intrenched in wickedness,

The adulterer sits secure, and reigns.

O modesty — an empty name !

And worth — a glorious cheat !
But what would yonder messenger announce,
Who comes in haste, with woeful countenance ? 990

ACT IV

[Enter Messenger.]
Messenge r.j O slaver)', thou hard and bitter lot,

Why must I voice these woes unspeakable ?
Theseus: \Fear not, but boldly tell the worst mischance;

For mine a heart not unprepared for grief.

202 The Tragedies of Seneca

Messenger: My tongue can find do words to voice its woe. 995

Theseus: But speak, what evil fortune still besets
My shattered house?

Messenger: Hippolytus is dead!

Theseus: The father knew long since his son had died;

But now the adulterer has met his end.
i Tell me, I pray, the manner of his death.
Messenger. When, fleeing forth, he left the city's walls, 1000

With maddened speed he hurried on his way,

And quickly yoked his chargers to his car,

And curbed them to his will with close-drawn reins.

And then, with much wild speech, and cursing loud

His native land, oft calling on his sire, 1005

He fiercely shook the reins above his steeds;

When suddenly, far out the vast sea roared,

And heaved itself to heaven. No wind was there

To stir the sea, no quarter of the sky

Broke in upon its peace; the rising waves

Were by their own peculiar tempest raised 1010

No blast so great had ever stirred the straits

Of Sicily, nor had the deep e'er swelled

With such wild rage before the north wind's breath,

When high cliffs trembled with the shock of waves,

And hoary foam smote high Leucate's top.

The sea then rose into a mighty heap, 1015

And, big with monstrous birth, was landward borne.

For no ship's wrecking was this swelling pest

Intended; landward was its aim. The flood

Rolled shoreward heavily, something unknown

Within its laden bosom carrying.

What land, new born, will lift its head aloft ? 1020

Is some new island of the Cyclades

Arising? Now the rocky heights are hid,

Held sacred to the Epidaurian god,

And those high crags well known for Sciron's crime;

No longer can be seen that land whose shores

Are washed by double seas. While in amaze 1025

We look in fear and wonder, suddenly
^ The whole sea bellows, and on every[side

Hippolytus or Phaedra 203

The towering cliffs re-echo with the roar;
While all their tops the leaping spray bedews.

(The deep spouts forth and vomits up its waves
In alternating streams, like some huge whale 1030

Which roves the ocean, spouting up the floods.
Then did that mound of waters strongly heave
And break itself, and threw upon the shore
A thing more terrible than all our fears.
The sea itself rushed landward, following
That monstrous thing. I shudder at the thought.
What form and bearing had the monster huge! 1035

A bull it was in form, with dark -green neck
Uplifted high, its lofty front adorned
With verdant mane. Its ears with shaggy hair
Were rough; its horns with changing color flashed,
Such as the lord of some fierce herd would have,
Both earth and ocean-born. He vomits flames; 1040

With flames his fierce eyes gleam. His glossy neck
Great couch-like muscles shows, and as he breathes,
His spreading nostrils quiver with the blast
Of his deep panting. Breast and dewlap hang
All green with clinging moss; and on his sides
Red lichens cling. His hinder parts appear 1045

In monstrous shape, and like some scaly fish
His vast and shapeless members drag along;
As are those monsters of the distant seas
Which swallow ships, and spout1 them forth again.
The country-side was panic stricken; herds 1050

In frenzied terror scattered through the fields;
Nor did the herdsmen think to follow them.
The wild beasts in the forest pastures fled
In all directions, and the hunters shook
With deadly fear. Hippolytus alone

Was not afraid, but curbed his frantic steeds 1055

With close-drawn reins, and with his well-known voice
He cheered them on. The road to Argos3 runs
Precipitous along the broken hills,
On one side bordered by the roaring sea.

Reading, reddit. • Reading, Argos.

204 The Tragedies of Seneca

Here does that massive monster whet himself

And kin. Ik- hot his wrath; then, when he felt
His courage strong within his breast, and when

His letter t<> attempt the strife In- had rehearsed, 1060

IK- charged EQppolytus with headlong course,

The ground scarce touching with his hounding feet;

And, fearful, stopped before the trembling steeds.

But this thy son, with savage countenance,

Stood steadfast, threatening, before the foe.

His features changed not, while lie thundered loud: 1065

"This empty terror cannot daunt my soul,

For 'twas my father's task to vanquish bulls."

But straightway, disobedient to the reins,

The horses hurried off the car. And now,
i The highway leaving, maddened by their fear,

They plunged along where'er their terror led, 1070

And took their way among the rocky fields.

But he, their driver, as some captain strong .

Holds straight his bark upon the boisterous set/"

Lest she oppose her side against the waves,

And by his art escapes the yawning floods;

Not otherwise he guides the whirling car. 1075

For now with tight-drawn reins he curbs his steeds,

And now upon their backs he plies the lash.

But doggedly that monster kept along,

Now running by their side, now leaping straight

Upon them as they came, from every hand

Great fear inspiring. Soon all further flight 1080

Was checked; for that dread, horned, ocean beast

With lowering front charged full against their course.
1 Then, truly, did the horses, wild with fear,

Break loose from all control; and from the yoke
] They madly struggled to withdraw their necks,

Their master hurling to their stamping feet.

Headlong among the lossened reins he fell, 1085

His form all tangled in their clinging strands.

The more he struggled to release himself

The tighter those relentless fetters bound.

The steeds perceived what they had done, and now,

Hippolytus or Phaedra 205

With empty cur, and no one mastering them,
They ran where terror bade. Just so, of old,
Not recognizing their accustomed load, 1090

And hot with anger that the car of day
Had been entrusted to a spurious sun,
The steeds of Phoebus hurled young Phaethon
Far through the airs of heaven in wandering course.
/"Now far and wide he stains the fields with blood,
His head rebounding from the smitten rocks.
The bramble thickets pluck away his hair, 1095

And that fair face is bruised upon the stones.
His fatal beauty which had been his bane,
Is ruined now by many a wound. His limbs
Are dragged along upon the flying wheels.
At last, his bleeding trunk upon a charred
And pointed stake is caught, pierced through the groin;
And for a little, by its master held, 1 100

The car stood still. The horses by that wound
Were held awhile, but soon they break delay —
And break their master too. While on they rush,
The whipping branches cut his dying form,
The rough and thorny brambles tear his flesh,
And every bush retains its part of him.

Now bands of servants scour those woeful fields, 1 105

Those places where Hippolytus was dragged,
And where his bloody trail directs the way;
And sorrowing dogs trace out their master's limbs.
But not as yet has all this careful toil

Of grieving friends sufficed to gather all. 1 1 10

And has it come to this, that glorious form ?
But now the partner of his father's realm,
And his acknowledged heir, illustrious youth,
Who shone refulgent like the stars — behold
His scattered fragments for the funeral pile
They gather up and heap them on the bier!
Theseus: O mother Nature, all too fx)tent thou !

How firmly dost thou hold me by the ties n 15

Of blood ! How thou dost force me to obey
Thy will ! I wished to slay my guilty son,

206

I'lii Trace dies of Seneca

While yet he lived; but now 1 mourn his loss.
Messenger: One may nol rightly mourn whal he has willed.1
Theseus: This is indeed the crowning woe, 1 think,

When chance fulfils ilu- prayers we should not make.
Messenger: If still you hate your son, why weep for him ?
Theseus: Because 1 slew, not lust my son, I weep.

1 120

Clients:

.'How on the wheel of eireumstance
\\Ye mortals whirl! 'Gainst humble folk
Does Eate more gently rage, and God
More lightly smites the lightly blest.
A life in dim retirement spent
Insures a peaceful soul; and he
Who in a lowly cottage dwells
'.May live to tranquil age at last.
The mountain tops that pierce the skies,
Feel all the stormy winds that blow,
Fierce Eurus, Notus, and the threats
Of Boreas, and Corus too,

Storm bringer.
The vale low lying seldom feels
The thunder's stroke; but Caucasus,
The huge, and the lofty Phrygian groves
Of mother Cybele have felt
The bolts of Jove the Thunderer.
For Jupiter in jealousy
Attacks the heights too near his skies;
But never is the humble roof
Uptorn by jealous heaven's assaults.
Round mighty kings and homes of kings

He thunders.
The passing hour on doubtful wings
. Flits ever; nor may any claim
\ Swift Fortune's pledge. Behold our king,
Who sees at last the glowing stars
And light of day, the gloom of hell
Behind him left, a sad return
Laments; for this his welcome home
He finds more sorrowful by far

Reading, haud quisquam honeste flere, quod voluil, potest.

TI25

1 130

"35

1 1 40

1 145

Hippolytus or Phaedra 207

Than dism I, dark Avernus' self.

O Pallas, by the Athenian race

In reverence held, that once again

Thy Theseus sees the light of day, 1 150

And has escaped the pools of Styx,

Thou owest naught to greedy Dis;

For still the number of the shades

Within the infernal tyrant's power
Remains the same.
But why the sounds of wailing that we hear ?
And what would Phaedra with her naked sword? 1155

ACT V

[Enter Phaedra until a drawn sword in her hand.]
Theseusllo Phaedra]: What madness pricks thee on, all wild with grief ?

What means that sword ? or why these loud laments ?

Why weepest thou above the hated corpse ?
Phaedra: Me, me, O savage ruler of the deep,

Attack; against me send the monstrous shapes 1 160

That breed within the caverns of the sea,

Whatever Tethys in her heart conceals,

And ocean hides within his wandering waves.

O Theseus, always ill of omen thou !

Oh, never to thy loved ones safe returned,

Since son and father by their death have paid 1 165

For thy home-coming. Thou of thine own house

Art the destroyer; ever baneful thou,

Whether in love or hatred of thy wives.

[Turning to the mangled eorpsc]

Hippolytus, is this thy face I see ?

Have I brought thee to this? What Sinis wild,

What pitiless Procrustes mangled thee? 11 70

What Cretan bull-man, filling all the cave

Of Daedalus with his vast bellowings,

Has rent thee thus upon his savage horns?

Ah me! where now is fled thy beauty bright,

Thy eyes, my stars ? Dost thou all lifeless lie ?

Come back a little while and hear my words. 1 1 75

'Tis nothing base I speak. Willi my own hand

2o8 The Tragedies of Seneca

I'll make thee full atonement, and will plunge

The avenging sword within my sinful breast,

And so be free from life and Lmilt at once.

Thee will 1 follow through Tartarean pools,

Across tin- Styx, through streams of liquid fire. 1180

Let me appease the spirit of the dead.

Accept the sjxiils I offer, take this lock

Torn from my bleeding forehead. 'Twas not right

To join our souls in life; but surely now

We may by death unite our fates.
[To herself.]

Now die,
' If thou art undefiled, to appease thy lord;

But if defiled, die for thy lover's sake. 1185

.Is't meet that I should live and seek again

My husband's couch, by such foul incest stained?

This wrong was lacking still, that, as if pure,

Thou shouldst enjoy that union, justified.

0 death, thou only cure for evil love,
For injured chastity the last resort:

1 fly to thee; spread wide thy soothing arms. 1190
Hear me, O Athens; thou, O father, hear,

Thou worse than stepdame: I have falsely sworn.
V The crime, which I myself within my heart,
fl With passion mad, conceived, I basely charged
To him. An empty vengeance hast thou wrought
Upon thy son; for he in chastity, 1195

Through fault of the unchaste, lies there, unstained
And innocent.

[To Hippolytus.]
Regain thine honor now;
Behold my impious breast awaits the stroke
Of justice, and my blood makes sacrifice
Unto the spirit of a guiltless man.
[To Theseus.]
How thou mayst recompense thy murdered son,
7 Learn now from me — and seek the Acheron. 1200

[She jails upon her sword and dies.]
Theseus: Ye jaws of wan Avernus, and ye caves

HYp polytus or Phaedra 200,

Of Taenara, ye floods of Lethe's stream,
A soothing balm to hearts o'ercome with grief,
Ye sluggish pools: take ye my impious soul
And plunge me deep in your eternal woes.
Now come, ye savage monsters of the deep,
[Whatever Proteus hides within his caves, 1205

And drown me in your pools, me who rejoice
In crime so hideous. O father, thou
Who ever dost too readily assent
Unto my wrathful prayers, I merit not
An easy death, who on my son have brought
A death so strange, and scattered through the fields
His mangled limbs; who, while, as austere judge,
I sought to punish evil falsely charged, 12 10

Have fallen myself into the pit of crime.
For heaven, hell, and seas have by my sins
Been peopled; now no further lot remains;
Three kingdoms know me now. Was it for this
That I returned ? Was heaven's light restored
To me that I might see two funerals,

A double death ? That I, bereft of wife 1215

And son, should with one torch upon the pyre
Consume them both ? Thou giver of the light
Which has so baleful proved, O, Hercules,
Take back thy boon, and give me up again
To Dis; restore me to the cursed shades
Whom I escaped. Oh, impious, in vain

I call ujxjn that death I left behind. 1220

Thou bloody man, well skilled in deadly arts,
Who hast contrived unwonted ways of death
And terrible, now deal unto thyself
The fitting punishment. Let some great pine
lie bent to earth and hurl thee high in air;
Or let me headlong leap from Sdron's cliff. 1225

More dreadful punishments have I beheld,
Which I'hlegethon upon the guilty souls
Encircled by his fiery stream inflicts.
What suffering awaits me, and what place,
Full well I know. Make room, ye guilty shades;

-MO

The T r a g e d i es o k S k \ i: C A

Chorus:

Theseus:

On me, me only, let thai rock be placed,

The everlasting toil of Sisyphus, 1230

Ami Kt these wearied bands upbear its weight;

Lei cooling waters lap and mock my lips;

Let that fell vulture fly from Tityos,

And let my vitals ever living be

For punishment. And thou, Ixion, sire 1235

Of my Pirithoiis, take rest awhile,

And let the wheel that never stops its flight

Bear these my limbs upon its whirling rim.

Now yawn, () earth, and chaos dire, receive,

I pray, receive me to your depths; for thus

'Tis fitting that I journey to the shades.

I go to meet my son. And fear thou not, 1240

Thou king of dead men's souls; I come in peace

To that eternal home, whence ne'er again

Shall I come forth.

My prayers move not the gods.
But if some impious plea I made to them,
I low ready would they be to grant my prayer!
Theseus, thou hast unending time to mourn.
Now pay the funeral honors due thy son, 1245

And bury these poor torn and scattered limbs.
Then hither bring the pitiful remains
Of that dear corpse, and heap together here
That shapeless mass of flesh, those mangled limbs.
Is this Hippolytus ? I realize

My depth of crime, for I have murdered thee. 1250

And lest but once and I alone should sin,
A parent, bent to do an impious thing,
My father did I summon to my aid.
Behold, my father's boon do I enjoy.
O childlessness, a bitter loss art thou
For broken age! But come, embrace his limbs,
Whatever of thy hapless son is left,

And clasp them, wretched father, to thy breast. 1255

Arrange in order those dismembered parts,
And to their proper place restore them. Here
His brave right hand should be. Place here the left,

Hippolytus or Phaedra 211

Well trained to curb his horses with the reins.
The marks of his left side I recognize; 1260

And yet how large a part is lacking still
Unto our tears. Be firm, ye trembling hands,
To do the last sad offices of grief;
)Be dry, my cheeks, and stay your flowing tears,
While I count o'er the members of my son,
And lay his body out for burial. 1265

What is this shapeless piece, on all sides torn
With many a wound ? I know not what it is,
Save that 'tis part of thee. Here lay it down.
Not in its own, but in an empty place.
That face, that once with starry splendor gleamed,
That softened by its grace e'en foemen's eyes, 1270

Has that bright beauty come to this ? O fate,
How bitter ! Deadly favor of the gods !
And is it thus my son comes back to me
In answer to my prayers ? These final rites
Thy father pays, receive, O thou my son,
Who often to thy funeral must be borne.
And now let fires consume these dear remains.
Throw open wide my palace, dark with death, 1275

And let all Athens ring with loud laments.
Do some of you prepare the royal pyre,
And others seek yet farther in the fields
His scattered parts.

[Pointing to Phaedra's corpse .]

Let earth on her be spread,
And may it heavy rest upon her head. 1280

HERCULES OETAEUS

HERCULES OETAEUS

DRAMATIS PERSONAE

Hercules . Son of Jupiter and Alcmena.

Hyllus . . Son of Hercules and Deianira.

Alcmena . . Daughter of Electryon, king of Mycenae.

Deianira . Daughter of Oeneus, king of Aetolia, and wife of Hercules.

Iole .... Daughter of Eurytus, king of Oechalia.

Nurse . . Of Deianira.

Philoctetes . A prince of Thessaly, son of Poeas, and the faithful friend of

Hercules.

Ijchas . . The messenger (persona muta) of Deianira to Hercules.

Chorus . . Of Aetolian women, faithful to Deianira.

Band ... Of Oechalian maidens, suffering captivity in company with
Iole.

THE scene is laid, first in Euboea, and later at th bom of Hercuks
in Trachin.

The long, heroic life oj Hercules has neared its end. His twelve great
t isks, assigned him by Eurystheus through Juno's hatred, have been done.
His latest victory was over Eurytus, king of Oechalia. Him he slew and
overthrew his house, because the monarch would not give him Iole to wife.

And now the hero, having overcome the world, and Pluto's realm beneath
the earth, ^.spires to heaven. He sacrifices to Cenaean Jove, and prays at
last to be received into his proper home.

ACT I

[On the Cenaean promontory of the island of Euboea.]
Hercules [about to sacrifice to Cenaean Jove]: O sire of gods,
from whose almighty hand
LBoth homes of Phoebus feel thy darting bolt:

Rule now serene, for I have 'stablished peace

Wherever Nereus checks the spreading lands.

Now let thy thunders rest; for treacherous kings 5

And savage tyrants are in ruin laid.

Whatever merited thy blasting darts

Have I o'erthrown and crushed. But, father, why

Is heaven still denied to me, thy son ?

For surely have I ever shown myself

A worthy child of Jove; and Juno's self,

My hard task-mistress, testifies to this,

That I am born of thee. Why dost thou still 10

[Contrive delays ? Am I thy cause of fear ?
|Will Atlas not avail to prop the skies

[f to their bulk the weight of Hercules
ie superadded ? Why, O father, why

Dost thou deny the stars to me ? To thee

Did death restore me; every monstrous shape

Which had its source in earth or sea or air,

Or hell itself, has yielded to my arms. 15

No lion treads the Arcadian cities now;

Stymphalus fears no more its noxious birds;

The wondrous stag of Macnalus is dead;

The watchful dragon spattered with its blood

The golden grove; the hydra's force is gone;

Those famous horses to the Hebrus known,

Which fattened on the blood of murdered guests, 20

-Have I destroyed, and spoils of war obtained
1 In victory o'er my Amazonian foe.

I saw the silent realms; nor all alone

Did I return, but shuddering day heheld

Dark Cerberus, and he beheld the sun.

217

21$ The Tragedies of Seneca

No more Antaeus, Libya's monarch huge,

His Btrength renews; before bis bloody shrines 25

Busiris lies o'erthrown; by my sole hand

The threefold GeryOD was o'ereome and slain,
And that dread terror of 8 hundred tribes,
The Cretan hull, yea all the monstrous things
To which the hostile world has given birth,
Have fallen in utter ruin by my hand.

If now the earth am show no monsters more, 30

If now my stepdame has her wrath fulfilled,
Restore the father to his son; yea, more —
Admit the hero to his proper skies.
I ask not that thou point the way to me;
Permit it only, father, and the way v
I'll find. Or, if thou fearest that the e4rth
Shall to the light new shapes of terror bring,
Let them make haste to come, whate'er they be, 35

While still the earth beholds her Hercules.
For who will e'er again these fearsome things
Attack, or who, throughout the towns of Greece,
Will e'er be worthy of great Juno's hate ?*J
In truth, my praises have I safe bestowed,
-Since now there is no land but sings of me.
-j'The Scythian, dwelling in the frozen North, 40

nThe Indian, smitten by the burning rays
\Of Phoebus, and the tropic African:
All know my fame. O glowing Sun, I thee
As witness call: I have encountered thee
Where'er thou shin'st; nor have thy darting beams
Availed to follow my triumphant course.
I've gone beyond the reaches of the sun, \
And daylight halted far within my bounds. 45

The world of nature yielded; for my steps A
No earth remained. She was exhausted first.
But night and utter chaos met me there.
From that dark realm whence no one e'er returns,
Have I come back to earth. Old Ocean's threats
Have I endured; no raging storm of his 50

Has e'er prevailed to overcome the bark

Hercules Oetaeus 219

In which I fared. How small a part I tell! :

Exhausted is the air and can no more

Suffice to feed the hatred of thy wife;

The earth in fear brings forth no monster more

For me to conquer, no wild beasts of prey.

These are denied to me, and in the stead 55

Of monster have I come myself to be.

How many evils have I overcome,

Though all unarmed! Whatever monstrous thing

Opposed, these empty hands have overthrown;

Nor did there ever live a savage beast

Which I as boy or infant feared to meet.

My bidden labors have seemed always light,

And no day ever dawned that brought to me 60

No strenuous toil. How many monstrous tasks

Have I fulfilled which no king set to me!

A harder master has my courage been

Than ever Juno was. But what avails

jThat I have saved the human race from fear ?

The gods in consequence have lost their peace.

The freed earth sees whatever she has feared 65

Now set in heaven; for Juno thitherward

Hath borne the beasts I slew. Restored to life,

The Crab fares safely in his torrid path,

A constellation now in southern skies,

And ripens Libya's waving fields of grain.

The Lion to the heavenly Virgin gives

The flying year; but he, with beaming mane 70

Upon his wild neck tossing, dries the winds

Which drip with moisture, and the clouds devours.

Behold, the beasts have all invaded heaven,

Forestalling me. Though victor, here I stand

Upon the earth, and view my labors there. w

For Juno to the monsters and the beasts

Has given stars, that so the heavenly realm 75

Might be for me a place of terror made.

But no ! Though in her wrath she fill the skies

With monsters, though she make the heavens worse

1 Reading, quant proscqunr.

22o The Tragedies of Seneca

Than earth and hell, yel shall a place be given

To Hercules. If, after beasts and wars,

If, after I subdued the Stygian dog,

1 have not earned a place among the stars, 80

Then shall Sicilian Pelorus touch

Hesperia's shores, and both shall be one land.

I'll put the intervening sea to flight;

Or, if thou wilt that severed seas be joined,

Then Isthmus shall give passage to the waves,

And Attic vessels by a new-found way /

Shall sail united seas. I'll change the world. 85

Along new channels shall the Hister flow,

And Tanai's find new passage to the sea.

Grant, grant, O Jupiter, this boon to me,

That I at least may shield the gods from harm.

There mayst thou lay aside thy thunderbolts,

Where I stand guard against thy enemies.

Whether thou bid'st me guard the icy pole,

Or o'er the torrid regions watch, be sure 90

That on that side the gods may be at rest.

Apollo earned the shrine of Pythia

And heaven, because he slew the Python huge;

But Oh, how many Pythons did I slay

In that dire hydra ! Bacchus, Perseus, too,

Have found a place among the heavenly gods. 95

How small that eastern portion of the earth

Which he subdued! How meager is the spoil

Which Perseus in the stony Gorgon gained!

What son of thine from Juno born has earned

A place in heaven because of his renown ?

I seek the skies which I myself have borne.

[Turning to Lichas.]
But thou, O Lichas, comrade of my toils,
Go tell my triumphs over Eurytus, 100

,His lares conquered and his realm o'erthrown.

[To his attendants.]
Do you with speed the victims hurry on
To where the temple of Cenaean Jove
Looks off upon the wild Euboean sea.

Hercules Oetaeus 221

Band oj captive Oechalian maidens: The mate of the
immortals he,

Whose life and fortune hand in hand

Go on apace. But worse than death 105

Is life, dragged on with many groans.

Whoe'er has trodden under foot
2 The greedy fates, and can disdain

The boat that plies on death's dark stream,

Will never feel the galling chains

Upon his captive arms; nor grace,

As noble spoil, the victor's train. 1 10

CFor he who faces death with joy

Can ne'er be wretched. Should his bark

Be wrecked upon the stormy sea

Where Africus with Boreas,

And Zephyrus with Eurus strive,

And rend the seas; he does not seek

To gather up the broken parts 115

t Of his wrecked ship, that, far at sea,

He still may cherish hopes of land.
(For he, who ever ready stands
jTo give his life, alone is safe

From all the perils of the storm.
(But we are held by shameful grief,

The gaunt, drawn face, the streaming tears,

By the ashes of our fatherland

Besprinkled. Us no whirling flame, 120

Nor crash of falling walls o'erwhelms.

Thou dost pursue the fortunate,

O death, but fleest from wretched souls.

Behold, we live: but Oh, no more,

Our country's walls1 remain; their place

Shall soon be hidden by the woods,

And all our temples fall away

To squalid hovels. Even now 125

The cold Dolopian will come

And o'er the ashes, glowing yet,

Sad remnants of Oechalia,

« Reading, patriae moenibus.

The Tragedies of Seneca

Will drive his Bocks. And sunn, alas,
Within our walls, the shepherd rude

Shall sing U|Kin his rustic pipes,

With doleful voice, our history. 130

And when the hand of God shall speed

A few more generations on,

The very place where once we dwelt

Will be forgotten. Happy once,

I kept no barren hearth at home;

Not mine the hungry acres then

Of Thessaly. But now I'm called

To Trachin's rough and stony land, 135

To ridges parched and jungle-set,

To groves which e'en the mountain goat

Would not inhabit. But, perchance,

Some milder fate the captives calls.

Then will they see the Inachus,

Whose rapid waves shall bear them on,

Or dwell within Dircaean walls 140

Where flows Ismenus' scanty stream —

And where was once the mother wed

Of mighty Hercules.

False is that tale of doubled night,

When overlong the stars delayed

Within the skies, and Hesperus
^ In place of Lucifer arose,

And Delia with tardy car 145

\ Kept back the sun. What Scythian crag

Begot thee, or what stony mount ?

Like some wild Titan wast thou born

On Rhodope, or Athos rough ?

What savage beast on Caspian shores,

Wdiat spotted tigress, suckled thee ? 150

Impervious to wounds is he.

Sharp spears are blunted, steel is bent

Against his heart; and glittering swords,

Upon his naked members struck,

In broken fragment drop apart;

Stones strike, but harmlessly rebound.

Hercules Oetaeus 223

And so he scorns the deadly fates, 155

And, all invincible, provokes

I lis death. No spears can pierce his heart,
;No arrow shot from Scythian bow,

No darts which cold Sarmatians bear,

Or they who dwell beneath the dawn,

The Parthians, whose fatal shafts

More deadly than the Cretan dart, 160

The neighboring Nabathaeans wound.

Oechalia's walls he overthrew

With his bare hands. Naught can withstand

I I is onslaught. For whate'er he plans
To overcome, is by that fact
Already overcome. How few

The foes who by his wounds have fallen !

His angry countenance means death; 165

And to have met his threatening gaze

Is worse than death. What Gyas huge,

What vast Briareus, who stood

Upon Thessalia's mountain heap

And clutched at heaven with snaky hands,

Would not have frozen at the glance

Of that dread face ? But mighty ills 170

Have mighty recompense: no more

Is left to suffer — we have seen,

Oh, woe ! the angry Hercules !
Iole: But I, unhappy one, must mourn,

Not temples with their gods o'erthrown,

Not scattered hearths and burning homes,

Where lie in common ruin mixed

Fathers with sons, and gods with men, 175

Temples and towns — the common woe;
.But fortune calls my tears away
) To other grief. Fate bids me weep

O'er other ruins. What lament 180

Shall I make first ? What greatest ill

Shall I bewail ? All equally

I'll weep. Ah me, that mother earth

Hath not more bosoms given me,

234 Thi Tragedies of Seneca

That worthily they might resound J

Unto my grief. But, < > ye gods,

Transform me to a weeping rock 185

On Sipylus; or set me where,
Between its grassy banks, the Po
Glides on, where grieving woods respond
To the mourning of the sisters sad
Of Phaethon; or to the shores
Of Sicily transport me. There,

Another Siren, let me mourn 190

The woeful fate of Thessaly.
Or bear me to the Thracian woods,
Where, underneath Ismarian shade,
The Daulian bird bewails her son.
Give me a form to fit my tears,

And let rough Trachin echo back 195

My cries of woe. The Cyprian maid
Still soothes her grieving heart with tears;
Still Ceyx's royal spouse bemoans
Her vanished lord; and Niobe,
Surviving life and grief, weeps on;
Her human form has Philomel
Escaped, and now with doleful notes

The Attic maid bewails her dead. 200

Oh, that my arms were feathered wings!
Oh, then, how happy would I be,
When, hidden in the forest depths,

I might lament in plaintive strain, 205

And live in fame as Iole,
The maiden bird. I saw, alas,
I saw my father's dreadful fate,
When, smitten with that deadly club,

He fell, in mangled fragments dashed 210

Throughout the palace hall. If then
^His fate had granted burial,
How often had I searched, O sire,
For all thy parts !
How could I look upon thy death,
O Toxeus, with thy tender cheeks

Hercules Oetaeus

225

Unbearded yet, thy boyish veins

Not yet with manhood's vigor filled ?

But why do I bewail your fates,

O parents, whom to safety now

Kind death has borne ? My fortune bids

That I bewail myself instead.

Soon, ah too soon, in captive state,

Shall I the flying spindle turn

For some proud mistress in her hall.

0 cruel beauty, how hast thou
Decreed my death ! For thee alone
Am I and all my house undone,
Since when my sire to Hercules
Refused my hand, because he feared
Great Hercules as son-in-law.

And now, not wife, but captive maid,

1 seek my haughty mistress' home.
Chorus: Why dost thou, foolish, ever dwell

Upon thy sire's illustrious realm,
And on thy own unhappy fate ?
Forget thy former station now;
For only is he happy who,
As king or slave, knows how to bear
His lot, and fit his countenance
To changing circumstance. For he
Who bears his ills with steadfast soul
Has from misfortune reft away
Its strength and heaviness.

ACT II

[In the palace 0) Deianira at Traclriu.]
Nurse of Deianira: Oh, bitter is the rage a woman feels,

When in one house both wife and mistress dwell !

No wrecking Scylla, no Charybdis dire,

The wild upheavers of Sicilia's waves,

No savage beast, is more untamed than she. J

For when the maiden's beauty was revealed,

And Iole shone like the cloudless sky,

Or gleaming stars within the heavens serene,

215

220

225

230

235

3a6 T ii i Tragedies of Seneca

Then did Ah ides' bride like one distraught 240

Stand gazing fiercely on the captive maid;
As when a tigress, lying with her young
Beneath some rock in far Armenia,
Leaps up in meet an enemy's approach;
Or as a Maenad, by the god inspired,
And bidden shake the lliyrsus, stands awhile
In wonder whither she shall take her way.
Then she throughout the house of Hercules 245

Goes madly rushing; nor docs all the house
Give space enough. Now here, now there she runs,
At random wandering; and now she stands,
Her face reflecting woe in every line,
The inmost feelings of her heart revealed.
She threatens fiercely, then a flood of tears
Succeeds to threats. No mood for long endures, 250

Nor can one form of rage content her long.
Now flame her cheeks with wrath; pale terror now
Drives out the flush of anger, and her grief
Takes every form that maddened sorrow knows:
Complainings, prayers, and groans. But now the doors
Are creaking: see, she comes in frenzied haste,
With words confused revealing all her heart. 255

[Enter Deianira.]
Deianira: O wife of Jove, where'er in heaven thou dwell'st,
Against Alcides send some raging beast
That shall be dire enough to sate my wrath. ■*
If any hydra rears its fertile head
Too vast to be contained in any pool,
Impossible of conquest, send it forth.

If anything is worse than other beasts, 260

Enormous, unrelenting, horrible,
From which the eye of even Hercules
Would turn in fear, let such an one come out
v From its huge den. But if no beasts avail,
This heart of mine into some monster change; »
For of my hate can any shape be made

That thou desir'st. Oh, mould my woman's form 265

To match my grief. My breast cannot contain J

Hercules O e t a e u s 227

Its rage. Why dost thou search the farthest bounds

Of earth, and overturn the world ? Or why

Dost thou demand of hell its evil shapes?

This breast of mine will furnish for thy use

All fearful things. To work thy deadly hate 270

Use me as tool. Thou canst destroy him quite.

Do thou but use these hands for what thou will.

Why dost thou hesitate, O goddess ? See,

Use me, the raging one. What impious deed

Dost thou command ? Decide. Why doubtful stand ?

Now mayst thou rest awhile from all thy toils,

For my rage is enough. 275

Xurse: O child of mine,

These sad outpourings of thy maddened heart
(Restrain, quench passion's fire, and curb thy grief.
Show now that thou art wife of Hercules.

Deianira: Shall captive Iole unto my sons

Give brothers, and a lowly slave become
The daughter-in-law of Jove ? In common course
Will fire and rushing torrent never run; 280

The thirsty Bear will never taste the sea —
And never shall my woes go unavenged.
Though thou didst bear the vasty heavens up,
Though all the world is debtor unto thee,
'Twill not avail thee now, for thou shalt find
A monster greater far than Hydra's rage,
»An angry wife's revenge, awaiting thee.

The flames that leap from A^tnaVs top to heaven 285

Burn not so fiercely as my passion's fire
Which shall outvie whate'er thou hast o'ercomc.
Shall then a captive slave usurp my bed ?
Before, I feared the monsters dire; but now,
Those pests have vanished quite, and in their stead
This hated rival comes. O mighty God, 290

Of all gods ruler, O thou lustrous Sun,
'Tis only in his perils, then, it seems,
Have I been wife to Hercules. The gods
Have granted to the captive all my prayers;
For her behoof have I been fortunate.

c:

aa8 The Tragedies of Seneca

Ye hoard, indeed, my prayers, O gods of heaven,
And Hercules is safe returned— for her! 295

( i grief, that DO revenge can satisfy,
Seek out some dreadful means of punishment,
By man unthought of and unspeakable.
Teach Juno's self how slight her hatred is.-j
She knows not how to rage. O Hercules, I
For me didst thou thy mighty battles wage;
For me did Achelous dye his waves 300

With his own blood in mortal strife with thee,
When now a writhing serpent he became,
Now to a threatening bull he turned himself,
And thou a thousand beasts didst overcome
In one sole enemy. But now, alas,
Am I no longer pleasing in thy sight,
And this base captive is preferred to me.

But this she shall not be. For that same day 305

Which ends our married joys shall end thy life.
But what is this ? My rage begins to fail
And moderate its threats. My anger's gone.
Why dost thou languish thus, O wretched grief?
Wilt thou give o'er thy passion, be again
The faithful, uncomplaining wife? Ah no!
Why dost thou strive to check the flames of wrath ? 310

Why quench its fire ? Let me but keep my rage,
And I shall be the peer of Hercules,
And I shall need to seek no heavenly aid.
But still, though all uncalled, will Juno come
To guide my hands.
Nurse: What crime dost thou intend,

O foolish one? Wilt slay thy noble lord, 315

Whose praises from the east to west are known,

Whose fame extends from earth to highest heaven ?

For all the earth will rise to avenge his death ;

And this thy father's house and all thy race

Will be the first to fall. Soon rocks and brands 320

Will be against thee hurled, since every land

Will its protector shield; and thou alone

Wilt suffer many, many penalties.

Hercules Oetaeus

229

Suppose thou canst escape the world of men ;
Still must thou face the thunderbolts of Jove,
The father of Alcides. Even now
His threat'ning torches gleam athwart the sky,
And all the heavens tremble with the shock.
Nay, death itself, wherein thou hop'st to find
A place of safe retreat — fear that as well;
For there Alcides' uncle reigns supreme.
Turn where thou wilt, O wretched woman; there
Shalt thou behold thy husband's kindred gods.
Deianira: A fearful crime it is, I do confess;

But Oh, my passion bids me do it still.
Nurse: Thou'lt die.
Deianira: But as the wife of Hercules

I'll die; no night shall ever bring the day

That shall behold me cheated of my own,

Nor shall a captive mistress have my bed.

Sooner shall western skies give birth to day;

Sooner shall men of India make their home

Beneath the icy pole, and Phoebus tan

With his hot rays the shivering Scythians,

Than shall the dames of Thessaly behold

My downfall. For with my own blood I'll quench

The marriage torches. Either he shall die,

Or slay me with his hand. To all the beasts

Whom he has slaughtered let him add his wife;

Let me be numbered 'mongst his mighty deeds;

But in my death my body still shall claim

The couch of Hercules. Oh, sweet, 'tis sweet

To fare to Hades as Alcides' bride,

And not without my vengeance. If, indeed,

From Hercules my rival has conceived,

With my own hands I'll tear the child away

Untimely, and that shameless harlot face

Within her very wedding torches' glare.

And though in wrath upon his nuptial day

He slay me as a victim at the shrine,

Let me but fall upon my rival's corse,

And I shall die content. For happy he

325

M°

335

34o

345

»3°

T ii i T k A G 1: i> I E s o F S E N E C A

Who drags with him his enemy to death. 350

Nurse: \ Why dost thou FeSd thy passion's flames, poor child,

And nurse thy grief? Why cherish needless fear?

I [e did feel love for lole, 'lis true;

Bui in the time while yet her father reigned,

And while she was a haughty monarch's child.

The princess now has fallen to the place

Of slave, and love has lost its power to charm, 355

Since her unhappy state has stol'n from her

Her loveliness. The unattainable

Is ever sought in love. But from the thing

That is within his reach love turns away.
Deianira: Nay: fallen fortunes fan the flames of love;

And for this very reason does he love,

Because her home is lost, and from her head

The crown of gleaming gold and gems has fallen. 360

For these her woes he pities her — and loves.

'Twas e'er his wont to love his captive maids.
Xiirsc: 'Tis true, he loved the captive Trojan maid,

Young Priam's sister; but he gave her up.

Recall how many dames, how many maids

Aforetime he has loved, this wandering swain. 365

The Arcadian maiden Auge, while she led

The choral dance of Pallas, roused his love

And suffered straight his passionate embrace.

But from his heart she quickly fell away,

And now retains no traces of his love.

Why mention others ? The Thespiades

Enjoyed the passing love of Hercules, 370

But are forgotten. Soon, a wanderer
. Upon Timolus, he caressed the queen
) Of Lydia, and, smitten by her love,

He sat beside the whirling distaff there,

His doughty fingers on the moistened thread.

His neck no longer bears the lion's spoil;

But there he sits, a languid, love-sick slave,

His shaggy locks with Phrygian turban bound, 375

And dripping with the costly oil of myrrh.

Yes, everywhere he feels the fires of love,

Hercules Oetaeus

231

Dciauira:

Nurse:

But always does he glow with transient flame.
But lovers after many transient flames,
Are wont at last to choose a single love.
And could Alcides choose instead of thee
A slave, the daughter of his enemy ? 380

Deianira: As budding groves put on a joyous form

When spring's warm breezes clothe the naked boughs;
But, when the northwind rages in their stead,
And savage winter strips the leaves away,
Thou seest naught but bare and shapeless trunks:
So this my beauty, which has traveled far 385

Along the road of life, has lost its bloom,
And gleams less brightly than in former years.
Behold that loveliness — but Oh, whate'er
Was once by many suitors sought in me,
Has vanished quite; for toils of motherhood
Have stolen my beauty, and with speeding foot
Advancing age has hurried it away. 390

But, as thou seest, this slave has not yet lost
Her glorious charms. Her queenly robes, 'tis true,
Have yielded to the garb of poverty;
Still, through her very grief her beauty shines,
,And nothing save her kingdom has she lost
; By this hard stroke of fate. This fear of her 395

Doth vex my heart and take away my sleep.
I once was in the eyes of all the world
The wife most to be praised; and every bride
Longed for a mate like mine with envious prayers;
And every soul that asked the gods for aught,
Took me as type and measure of her vows. 400

What father shall I ever find, O nurse,
To equal Jove ? What husband like to mine
In all the world ? Though he, Eurystheus' self,
Beneath whose power my Hercules is placed,
Should take me for his wife, 'twould not suffice.
A trifling thing, to miss a royal couch; 405

But far she falls who loses Hercules.
But children often win a husband's love.
My rival's child perchance will win him too.

Nurse:
Deianira:

232 The Tragedies of Seneca

Nurse: I think thai slave is but a gift for thee.

Diianira: This fellow whom thou seesl wandering 410

.Throughout our Grecian cities, big with fame,

\A tawny lion's spoils upon his back,

And in his dreadful hand a massive dub;
Who takes their realms away from haughty kings,
And gives them to the weak; whose praise is sung
By men oi every land throughout the world: 415

This man is but a trifler, without thought
Of winning deathless glory for himself.
He wanders through the earth, not in the hope
That he may rival Jupiter, or go
With great renown throughout the towns of Greece;
His quest is ever love, the maiden's couch. ^
He takes by force what is refused to him; 420

He rages 'gainst the nations, seeks his brides
Amidst the ruins of a people's hopes.
And this wild carnival of lustful crime
Is by the honored name, heroic, called. J
But now, illustrious Oechalia fell;
One sun, one day beheld it stand— and fall.
And of the strife the only cause was love.
As often as a father shall refuse 425

To give his daughter unto Hercules,
And be the father of his enemy,
So often need he be in mortal fear.
If he is not accepted as a son,
He smites in rage. Why then do I preserve
In harmless inactivity these hands,
Until he feign another fit of rage,
And stretch nis bow with deadly aim at me,
And slaughter both his wife and child at once ? 430

Thus 'tis his wont to put away his wives:
And such his cruel method of divorce. '"
But he cannot be held the guilty one!
For he contrives to make the world believe
["That Juno is the cause of all his crimes.
O sluggish passion, why inactive stand ?
Anticipate his crime, and act at once

Hercules Oetaeus

23i

Nurse:
Deianira

Nurse:

440

While still thy hands are burning for the deed. 435

Nurse: Wilt kill thy husband ?
Deianira: And my rival's too.

Nurse: The son of Jove ?

Deianira: Alcmena's son as well.

Nurse: With the sword ?
Deianira: The sword.

Nurse: If not ?

Deianira: With guile I'll slay.

Nurse: What madness this ?

Deianira: That which I learned of him.

Nurse: Whom Juno could not harm wilt thou destroy ?
Deianira: Celestial anger only wretched makes

Those whom it touches; mortal wrath destroys.
Nurse: Oh, spare thy husband, wretched one, and fear.
Deianira: The one who first has learned the scorn of death,

Scorns everything. 'Tis sweet to meet the sword.
Nurse: Thy grief is all too great, my foster-child;

Let not his fault claim more than equal hate. 445

— Why dost so sternly judge a light offense ?

Nay, suit thy grieving to thine injury.
Deianira: But dost thou call a mistress light offense ?

) Of all that feeds my grief, count this the worst.

And has thy love for great Alcides fled ?

Not fled, dear nurse, believe me; still it lies 450

Securely fixed wiiliin my inmost heart.

But outraged love is poignant misery. x

By magic arts united to their prayers

Do wives full oft their wandering husbands bind.

I have myself in midst of winter's cold

Commanded trees to clothe themselves in green,

The thunderbolt to stop; I've roused the sea 455

When no wind blew, and calmed the swollen waves;

The thirsty plain has opened at my touch

To springs of water; rocks give way to me,

And doors fly open; when I bid them stand

The shades of hell obey, and talk with me;

The infernal dog is still at my command; 460

Midnight has seen the sun, midday the night.

»34

The Tragedies of Seneca

For sen, land, heaven, and ludl obey my will,
And nothing can withstand my potent charms.
Then let us bend him; charms will find the way.

Dcianira: What magic herbs does distant Pontus yield,
Or Pindus 'neath the rocks of Thcssaly,
Where I may find a charm to bend his will?
Though Luna leave the stars and fall to earth,
Obedient to thy magic; though the crops
In winter ripen; though the hurtling bolt
Stand still at thy command; though all the laws
Of nature be reversed, and stars shine out
Upon the noonday skies — he would not yield.

Xurse: But Love has conquered e'en the heavenly gods.

Dcianira: Perhaps by one alone he will himself

Be conquered, and give spoils of war to him,
And so become Alcides' latest task.
But by each separate god of heaven I pray,
By this my fear: what secret I disclose
Keep hidden thou and close within thy breast.

Nurse: What secret wouldst thou then so closely guard ?

Dcianira: I mean no weapons, arms, or threatening flames.

Xurse: I can give pledge of faith, if it be free

From sin; for sometimes faith itself is sin.

Dcianira: Lest someone hear my secret, look about;
In all directions turn thy watchful gaze.

Nurse: Behold, the place is free from curious eyes.

Dcianira: Deep hidden, far within this royal pile,

There is a cave that guards my secret well.
Neither the rising sun can reach the spot
With its fresh beams; nor can its latest rays,
WTien Titan leads the weary day to rest,
And plunges 'neath the ruddy ocean's waves.
There lies a charm that can restore to me
The love of Hercules. I'll tell thee all.
The giver of the charm was Nessus, he
Whom Nephele to bold Ixion bore,
WTiere lofty1 Pindus towers to the skies,
And high above the clouds cold Othrys stands.

1 Reading, celsus.

4°5

470

475

480

485

490

Hercules Oetaeus 235

For when, compelled by dread Alcides' club 495

To shift with ready ease from form to form

Of beasts, and, overcome in every form,

At last bold Achelous bowed his head

With its one horn defiled; then Hercules,

Exulting in his triumph, claimed his "bride

And bore me off to Argos. Then, it chanced, 500

Evenus' stream that wanders through the plain,

Its whirling waters bearing to the sea,

Was swollen beyond its banks' with turbid flood.

Here Nessus, well accustomed to the stream,

Required a price for bearing me across; 505

And on his back, where beast and human join,

He took me, boldly stemming every wave.

Now was fierce Nessus well across the stream,

And still in "middle flood Alcides fared,

Breasting with mighty strides the eager waves;

When he, beholding Hercules afar, 510

Cried, "Thou shalt be my wife, my booty thou,

For Hercules is held within the stream;"

And clasping me was galloping away.

But now the waves could not thwart Hercules.
"O faithless ferryman," he shouted out,
"Though Ganges and the Ister join their floods, SJ5

I shall o'ercome them both and check thy flight."

His arrow sped before his words were done,

Transfixing Nessus with a mortal wound,

And stayed his flight. Then he, with dying eyes

Seeking the light, within his hand caught up 520

The flowing2 gore; and in his hollow hoof,

Which he with savage hand had wrenched away,

He poured and handed it to me, and said:
"This blood, magicians say, contains a charm,

Which can a wavering love restore; for so

Thessalian dames by Mycale were taught, 525

Who only, 'midst all wonder-working crones,

Could lure the moon from out the starry skies.

A garment well anointed with this gore
■ Reading, ripis. ' Reading, fluenton.

2l6

The Tragedies of Seneca

Shalt thou present to him," the centaur said,
"If e'er a hated rival steal thy couch,

If e'er thy husband in a fickle mood

To heavenly Jove another daughter give. 530

Let not the light of day shine on the (harm,

But in the thickest darkness let it lie.

So shall the blood its magic power retain."

So spake he; o'er his words a silence fell,

And the sleep of death upon his weary limbs.

Do thou, who knowest now my secret plans, 535

Make haste and bring this charm to me, that so

Its force, imparted to a gleaming robe,

May at the touch dart through his soul, his limbs,

And through the very marrow of his bones.
Xurse: With speed will I thy bidding do, dear child.

And do thou call upon the god of love,

Invincible, who with his tender hand 540

Doth speed his arrows with unerring aim.
[Exit Nurse.]
Deianira [invoking Cupid]: O wingeYl boy, by earth and heaven feared,

By creatures of the sea, and him who wields

The bolts in Aetna forged; and dreaded too

By thy relentless mother, queen of love:

Aim with unerring hand thy swiftest dart.

Not harmless be the shaft, but choose, I pray 545

One of thy keenest arrows, which thy hand

Has never used; for such must be thy dart

If mighty Hercules be forced to love.

Make firm thy hands and strongly bend thy bow;

Now, now that shaft let loose which once thou aim'dst 550

At Jove the terrible, what time the god

Laid down his thunderbolts, and as a bull

With swelling forehead clove the boisterous sea,

And bore the Assyrian maiden as his prize.

Now fill his heart with love; let him surpass

All who have ever felt thy passion's power —

And learn to love his wife. If Iole 555

Has kindled flames of love within his heart,

Extinguish them, and let him dream alone

Hercules Oe'taeus 237

Of me. Thou who hast often conquered Jove,
The Thunderer, and him whose scepter dark
Holds sway within the gloomy underworld,
The king of countless throngs, the lord of Styx; 560

Whom angry Juno cannot quell: win thou
Alone this triumph over Hercules.
Nurse [returning with robe and charm ready]: The charm from its dark
hiding-place is brought,
And that fair robe upon whose cunning web
Thy maidens all have wrought with wearied hands.
Now bring the poisoned blood and let the robe 565

Drink in its magic power, while by my prayers
Will I the charm augment.

[Enter Lichas.]

But at the word
The faithful Lichas comes. Quick! hide the charm,
Lest by his mouth our plot may be revealed.
Deianira [to Lichas]: O Lichas, ever faithful to thy lord,

A name which mighty houses may not boast: 570

Take thou this garment woven by my hands,
While Hercules was wandering o'er the earth,
c Or, spent with wine, was holding in his arms
) The Lydian queen, or calling Iole.
And yet, perchance, I still may turn his heart
To me again by wifely service. Thus

Have evil men full often been reclaimed. 575

Before my husband puts this tunic on,
Bid him burn incense and appease the gods,
His rough locks wreathed with hoary poplar leaves.
[Lichas takes the robe and departs upon his mission.]
I will myself within the palace go
And pray the mother of relentless love. 580

[To her Aetolim attendants.]
Do ye, who from my father's house have come,
Bewail the sad misfortunes of your queen.

[Exit.]
Chorus of Aiiolian women: We weep for thee, O lady dear,
And for thy couch dishonored — we,
The comrades of thy earliest years,

j;S The Tk.\(. i nil. s op Seneca

Weep and lament lliy falc. 585

IImw oftea have we played with thee

In Acheloiis' shallow |m).i|s,

When now the swollen floods of spring

Had passed away, and gently now,

Willi graceful sweep, the river ran;

When mad Lycormas eeased to roll 590

His headlong waters on.

I low oft have we, a choral band,

To Pallas' altars gone with thee;

How oil in Theban baskets borne 595

The sacred Bacchic mysteries,

When now the wintry stars have fled,

When each third summer calls the sun ;

And when, the sacred rites complete

To Ceres, queen of golden grain,

Eleusin hides her worshipers

Within her mystic cave.
\ Now too, whatever^ fate thou fear'st, 600

Accept us as thy trusted friends;

For rare is such fidelity
YWhen better fortune fails.

O thou, who wield'st the scepter's power,

Whoe'er thou art, though eagerly

The people throng within thy courts, 605

And press for entrance at thy doors;

And though the crowds press thick about

Wliere'er thou tak'st thy way: be sure

That in so many seeming friends,

Scarce one is true.

Erinys keeps the gilded gate;

And when the great doors swing apart, 610

Then cunning treachery creeps in

And fraud, and murderous dagger points.

Whene'er thou think'st to walk abroad,

Base envy as thy comrade goes.

As often as the morning dawns

Be sure a king from fear of death 615

Has been delivered. Few there are

Hercules Oetaeus 239

Who love the king, and not his power.
For 'tis the glitter of the throne
That fires most hearts to loyally.
Now one is eager next the king
To walk before the gaze of men,
And so gain luster for himself;

For greed of glory burns his heart. 620

Another from the royal stores
Seeks to supply his own desires;
And yet not all the precious sands
(3f Hister's streams could satisfy,
'Nor Lydia sate his thirst for gold;
Nor that far land where Zephyr blows,
Which looks in wonder on the gleam 625

Of Tagus' golden sands.
Were all the wealth of Hebrus his;
If rich Hydaspes were his own;
If through his fields, with all its stream,
He saw the Ganges flowing: still 630

For greed, base greed 'twould not suffice.
One honors kings and courts of kings,
Not that his careful husbandmen
Forever stooping o'er the plow
May never cease their toil for him;

Or that his peasantry may till 635

His thousand fields: but wealth alone,
Which he may hoard away, he seeks.
Another worships kings, that so
All other men he may oppress,
May ruin many, none assist;
Ami with this sole aim covets power,
That he may use it ill.

How few live out their fated span! 640

Whom yesternight saw radiant
With joy, the newborn day beholds
In wretched case. How rare it is
To find old age and happin-
^Combined. More soft than Tyrian couch,
|The greensward soothes to fearless sleep; 645

240 The Tragedies of Seneca

Rut gilded ceilings break our rest,

And sleepless through the night we lie

( »n beds of luxury.

Oh, should the rich lay bare tlicir hearts,
- What fears which lofty fortune breeds

Would be revealed! The Bruttian coast 650

When Corns lashes up the sea
(Is calmer far. Not so the poor:

His heart is ever full of peace.

From shallow beechen cups he drinks,

But not with trembling hands; his food

Is cheap and common, but he sees 655

No naked sword above his head.

'Tis in the cup of gold alone

That blood is mingled with the wine.

The poor man's wife no necklace wrought

Of costly pearls, the red sea's gift, 660

May wear; no gems from eastern shores

Weigh down her ears; nor does she wear
/Soft scarlet wools in Tyrian dye

Twice dipped; not hers with Lydian art

To 'broider costly silks whose threads 665

The Serians under sunlit skies

From orient treetops gather; she

With common herbs must dye the web

Which she with unskilled hands has wov'n:

But still her husband is her own, , 670

Her couch by rivals undisturbed. *

But favored brides, whose wedding day

The thronging people celebrate,
^Fate, with her cruel torch pursues.

The poor no happiness can know

Unless he sees the fortunate

From their high station fallen.

Whoever shuns the middle course 675

Can never in safe pathways go.

When once bold Phaethon essayed

Within his father's car to stand

And give the day, and did not fare

Hercules Oetaeus 241

Along the accustomed track, but sought

With wandering wheels to make his way 680

With Phoebus' torch 'midst unknown stars —

Himself he ruined and the earth

In one destruction. Daedalus

The middle course of heaven pursued,

And so to peaceful shores attained

And gave no sea its name. His son, 685

Young Icarus, dared rival birds

In flight, despised his father's wings,
I And soared high up into the realm
/Of Phoebus' rays: headlong he fell

And to an unknown sea his name

He gave. So are great fortunes joined 690

To mighty ills.

Let others then as fortunate

And great be hailed; I wish no share

Of popular renown. My boat

Is frail and needs must hug the shore.

And let no strong wind force my bark 695

I r out to sea; for fortune spares

Safe-harbored boats, but seeks the ships

In mid sea proudly sailing on,

Their topsails in the clouds.

But why with pallid face, in fear, 700

Like some Bacchante smitten sore

With madness, comes our princess forth ?

What new reverse of fortune's wheel

Has come to vex thy tortured soul ?
For though thou speakest ne'er a word, poor queen,
Whate'er thou hidest, in thy face is seen.

ACT III

Deianira [hurrying distractedly out of the palace]: A nameless terror 705
fills my stricken limbs,
My hair stands up in horror, and my soul,
But now so passion tossed, is dumb with fear;
My heart beats wildly, and my liver throbs

Tim Tragedies of Seneca

Willi pulsing veins. As wlu'ii the storm-tossed sea 710

Still heaves and swells, although the skies are clear

And winds have died away; so is my mind

Still tossed and restless, though my fear is stayed.

When once the fortunate begin to feel

The wntth of god, their sorrows never cease.

For so does fortune ever end in woe.
Nurse: What new distress, poor soul, has come to thee? 715

DeUmira: Hut now, when I had sent away the robe

With Xessus' poisoned blood besmeared, and I,

With sad forebodings, to my chamber went,

Some nameless fear oppressed my anxious heart,
— • A fear of treachery. I thought to prove

The charm. Fierce Nessus, I bethought me then,

Had bidden me to keep the blood from flame; 720

And this advice itself foreboded fraud.

It chanced the sun was shining, bright and warm,

Undimmed by clouds. As I recall it now,

My fear scarce suffers me to tell the tale.

'Into the blazing radiance of the sun 725

I cast the blood-stained remnant of the cloth

With which the fatal garment had been smeared.

The thing writhed horribly, and burst aflame
,k As soon as Phoebus warmed it with his rays.

Oh, 'tis a dreadful portent that I tell !

As when the snows on Mimas' sparkling sides

Are melted by the genial breath of spring; 730

As on Leucadia's crags the heaving waves

Are dashed and break in foam upon the beach;

Or as the incense on the holy shrines

Is melted by the warming altar fires:

So did the woolen fragment melt away. 735

And while in wonder and amaze I looked,

The object of my wonder disappeared.

Nay, e'en the ground itself began to foam,

And what the poison touched to shrink away.
[Hyllus is seen approaching.]

But hither comes my son with face of fear, 740

1 Lines 725-28 follow the text of Schroeder.

Hercules Oetaeus

243

Hyllus:

Deianira,

Hyllus:

Deianira,
IIvllus:

Deianira
Hyllus:

Deianira
Hyllus:

And hurrying feet.

[To Hyllus.]
What tidings dost thou bear?

Oh, speed thee, mother, to whatever place

On land or sea, among the stars of heaven,

Or in the depths of hell, can keep thee safe

Beyond the deadly reach of Hercules.

Some great disaster doth my mind presage. 745

Hie thee to Juno's shrine, the victor's realm;

This refuge waits thee 'midst the loss of all.

Tell what disaster hath o'erta'en me now.

That glory and sole bulwark of the world,
tVVhom in the place of Jove the^ fates had given 750

To bless the earth, O mother, is no more.

A strange infection wastes Alcides' limbs;

And he who conquered every form of beast,

He, he, the victor is o'ercome with woe.

What wouldst thou further hear?

All wretched souls

Are e'er in haste to know their miseries.

Come, tell, what present fate o'erhangs our house? 755

> O wretched, wretched house! Now, now indeed,

Am I a widow, exiled, fate-o'ercome.

Not thou alone dost weep for Hercules;

For in his fall the universe laments.

Think not on private griefs; the human race

Lifts up the voice of mourning. All the world 760

Is grieving with the selfsame grief thou feel'st.

Thou shar'st thy misery with every land.

Thou hast, indeed, forestalled their grief, poor soul ;

Thou first, but not alone, dost weep for him.
■ Yet tell me, tell, I pray, how near to death 765

Lies my Alcides now.

lAaih flees his grasp,
' Death whom he conquered once in its own realm;

Nor will the fates permit so great a crime.

Perchance dread Clotho from her trembling hand

Has thrown aside her distaff, and in fear

Refuses to complete Alcides' fate. 770

244 The Tragedies of Seneca

O day, O awful dayl and must this be
The i'mal day for mighty Hercules?

Deianira: To death and the world of shades, to that <lark realm,
Dosl say thai he has gone already? Why,
Oh, why may 1 not be the first to go?

But tell me truly, if he still doth live.
Ilyllus: Euboea stands with high uplifted head, 775

On every side lashed by the tossing waves.
Here high Caphereus faces Phrixus' sea,
And here rough Auster blows. But on the side
Which feels the blast of snowy Aquilo,
Euripus restless leads his wandering waves;
Seven times his heaving tides he lifts on high, 780

Seven limes they sink again, before the sun
His weary horses plunges in the sea.
Here on a lofty cliff, 'midst drifting clouds,
An ancient temple of Cenaean Jove
Gleams far and wide. When at the altars stood
The votive herd, and all the grove was full
Of hollow bellowings of the gilded bulls; 785

Then Hercules put off his lion's skin
With gore besmeared, his heavy club laid down,
And freed his shoulders of the quiver's weight.
Then, gleaming brightly in the robe thou gav'st,
His shaggy locks with hoary poplar wreathed,
He lit the altar fires, and prayed: "O Jove, 790

Not falsely called my father, take these gifts
And let the sacred fire blaze brightly up
With copious incense, which the Arab rich
From Saba's trees in worship of the sun
Collects. All monsters of the earth, the sea,
The sky have been subdued at last, and I,
As victor over all, am home returned. 795

Lay down thy thunderbolt." So prayed he then.
But even as he prayed a heavy groan
Fell from his lips, and he was horror struck
And mute awhile. And then with dreadful cries
He filled the air. As when a votive bull
Feels in his wounded neck the deep-driven ax,

Hercules Oetaeus 245

And flees away, retaining still the steel,

And fills with loud uproar the spacious hall; 800

Or as the thunder rumbles round the sky:

So did Alcides smite the very stars

And sea writh his loud roarings. Chalcis heard,

The Cyclades re-echoed with the sound,

Caphereus' rocky crags and all the grove

Resounded with the groans of Hercules. 805

We saw him weep. The common people deemed

(His former madness had come back to him.

His servants fled away in fear. But he,

With burning gaze, seeks one among them all,

Ill-fated Lichas, who, with trembling hands 810

Upon the altar, even then forestalled

Through deadly fear the bitter pangs of death,

And so left meager food for punishment.

Then did Alcides grasp the quivering corpse

And cried: "By such a hand as this, ye fates,

Shall it be said that I was overcome ?

Has Lichas conquered Hercules ? See then

Another slaughter: Hercules in turn 815

Slays Lichas. Be my noble deeds by this

Dishonored; let this be my crowning task."

He spake, and high in air the wretched boy

Was hurled, the very heavens with his gore

Besprinkling. So the Getan arrow flies,

Far leaping from the bowman's hand; so flies

The Cretan dart, but far within the mark. 820

His head against the jagged rocks is dashed,

His headless body falls into the sea,
'Death1 claiming both. "But hold," Alcides said,
"No madness steals my reason as of yore;

This is an evil greater far than rage

Of madness; 'gainst myself alone I turn." 825

He stays him not to tell his < mise <>f woe,

But rages wildly, tearing at his flesh,

His huge limbs rending with his savage hands.

He strove to tear away the fatal r>

1 Reading, /units.

246 The Trau dies 0 r S e n e i \

Hut this alone of all his mighty deeds
Alcides could not do. Yet striving still

To tear the garment off, he tore the flesh.

The tobe Seemed part of that gigantic form, 830

yea, pail and parcel of the flesh itself.

The cause of this dire suffering is hid,

Hut yet there is a cause. His pain at length
Unable to endure, prone on the earth
He grovels; now for cooling water calls.

Hut water has no power to soothe his pain. 835

He seeks the shore and plunges in the sea,
The while his servant's hands direct his steps.
Oh, bitter lot, that mighty Hercules
Should come to be the mate of common men !
And now a vessel from Euboea's shore
Bears off the ponderous bulk of Hercules,

iThe gentle southwind wafting it along. 840

His spirit from his mighty frame has fled,
And o'er his eyes have fall'n the shades of night.
Dcianira: Why dost thou hesitate ? why stand amazed,
O soul, that thus at last the deed is done?1
But Jove demands again his son of thee;
Juno, her rival; yea, to all the world
Must he be given back. Vain such appeal.
Make then what reparation2 yet thou mayst:
Through this my guilty body let the sword 845

Be driven. Thus, thus, 'tis well that it be done.
But can this puny hand of mine atone
For crime so great ? O sire of Hercules,
Destroy me with thy hurtling thunderbolt,
Thy guilty daughter. With no common dart
Arm thine avenging hand; but use that shaft
With which, had Hercules ne'er sprung from thee, 850

Thou wouldst have scorched the hydra. As a pest
Unprecedented smite me, as a scourge
Far worse to bear than any stepdame's wrath.
Such bolt as once at wandering Phaethon
Thou hurledst, aim at me. For I myself

1 Reading, quid stupes /actum scclus ? * Reading, reddi.

Hercules Oetaeus 247

Have ruined all mankind in Hercules. 855

But why demand a weapon of the gods ?

For 'tis her shame that great Alcides' wife

Should pray for death. Let prayers give way to deeds, j

And from myself let me demand my death.

Take then the sword tfl fta'STe. Hut wnv the sword ?

Whate'er can work my death is swyid enough.

From some heaven -piercing cliff I'll cast me down. 860

Yea, let our neighboring Oeta be my choice,

Whose top is first to greet the newborn day.

From its high peak Fll hurl me down to death.

May I be rent asunder on its crags,

And every rock demand some part of me;

Let sharp projections pierce my mangled hands,

And all the rugged mountainside be red 865

With blood. One. death is not enough, 'tis true;

But still its agony can be prolonged.

O hesitating soul, thou canst not choose

What form of death to die. Oh, that the sword

Of Hercules within my chamber hung!

How fitting 'twere by such a sword to die!

But is't enough that by one hand I fall ? 870

Assemble, all ye nations of the world,

And hurl upon me rocks and blazing brands;

Let no hand shirk its task of punishment,

For your avenger have I done to death.

Now with impunity shall cruel kings

Their scepters wield; and monstrous ills shall rise 875

With none to let; again shall shrines be sought,

Where worshiper and victim are alike

In human form. A broad highway for crime

Have I prepared; and, by removing him

Who was their bulwark, have exposed mankind

To every form of monstrous man and beast

And savage god. Why dost thou cease thy work, 880

O wife of thundering Jove ? Why dost thou not,

In imitation of thy brother, snatch

from his own hand the fiery thunderbolt,

And slay me here thyself? For thou hast lost

»48

The Tragedies of Seneca

Ilyllus:

Deianira.

Ilyllus:
I hi, intra
HyUus:

Deianira

Ilyllus:

Deianira

Hyllus:

Deianira.

Ilyllus:

Deianira

Ilyllus:

Deianira

Hyllus:

Deianira

Hyllus:

Deianira:
Hyllus:

Deianira,

('.rial praise and mighty triumph by my act:
I have forestalled thee, Juno, in the death
Of this thy rival.

Wouldst to ruin doom
Thy house already tottering? This crime,
Whate'er it is, is all from error sprung. 885

He is not guilty who unwilling sins. J
Whoe'er ignores his fate and spares himself,
Deservedly has erred, deserves to die.*
He must be guilty who desires to die.

Death, only, makes the erring innocent. J 890

Fleeing the sun —

The sun himself flees me.
Wouldst leave thy life?

A wretched life indeed;
I long to go where Hercules has gone.
He still survives, and breathes the air of heaven.
Alcides died when first he was o'ercome.
! Wilt leave thy son behind? forestall thyfateS-? 895

She whom her own son buries has lived long.
Follow thy husband.

Chaste wives go before.
Who dooms himself to death confesses sin.
No sinner seeks to shirk his punishment.

The life of many a man has been restored 900

Whose guilt in judgment not in action lay.
Who blames the lot by ^te.assigned to him ?
He blames it to whom Catenas been unkind.
But Hercules himself killed Megara,

And by his raging hands with deadly darts 905

Transfixed his sons. Still, though a parricide,
Thrice guilty, he forgave himself the deed,
Blaming his madness. In Cinyphian waves
In Libya's land he washed his sin away,
And cleansed his hands. Then why, poor soul, shouldst

thou
So hastily condemn thine own misdeeds ?
The fact that I have ruined Hercules 910

Condemns my deeds. I welcome punishment.

Hercules Oetaeus

249

Hyllus: If I know Hercules, he soon will come

Victorious over all his deadly woe;

And agony, o'ercome, will yield to him.
Deianira: The hydra's venom preys upon his frame;

A boundless pestilence consumes his limbs. 915

Hyllus: Think'st thou the poison of that serpent, slain,

Cannot be overcome by that brave man

Who met the living foe and conquered it ?

He slew the hydra, and victorious stood,

Though in his flesh the poisonous fangs were fixed,

And o'er his limbs the deadly venom flowed. 020

Shall he, who overcame dread Nessus' self,

By this same Nessus' blood be overcome ?
Deianira:^ 'Tis vain to stay one who is bent on death.

It is my will at once to flee the light.

Who dies with Hercules has lived enough.
Xiirse: Now by these hoary locks, as suppliant, 925

And by these breasts which suckled thee, I beg:

Abate thy wounded heart's wild threatenings,
I Give o'er thy dread resolve for cruel death.
Deianira: Whoe'er persuades the wretched not to die

lis cruel. Death is sometimes punishment, 930

I But oft a boon, and brings forgiveness oft.
Nurse: Restrain at least thy hand, unhappy child,

That he may know the deed was born of fraud,

And was not purposed by his wife's design.
Deianira: I'll plead my cause before the bar of hell,

Whose gods, I think, will free me from my guilt,

Though I am self-condemned; these guilty hands 935

Will Pluto cleanse for me. Then, on thy banks,

O Lethe, with my memory clean I'll stand,

A grieving shade, awaiting him I love.

But thou, who rulest o'er the world of gloom,

Prepare some toil for me, some dreadful toil;

For this my fault outweighs all other sins

That heart of man has ever dared to do. ^

Nay, Juno's self was never bold enough 940

To rob the grieving world of Hercules.

Let Sisyphus from his hard labor cease,

250 Tim Tragedies or Seneca

And let his stone upon my shoulders press;

Let vagrant waves Bee from my eager lipsy

And that elusive water mock my thirst.

Upon thy winding spokes have I deserved 945

To be stretched out, O king of Thessaly.

Let greedy vultures feed upon my flesh.

One from the tale of the Danaldes

Is lacking' yet; let me the number fill.

Ve shades, make room for me; O Colchian wife,

Receive me as thy comrade there below7. 950

My deed is worse, far worse than both thy crimes,

Though thou as mother and as sister, too,

I last sinned. Thou also, cruel queen of Thrace,

Take me as comrade of thy crimes. And thou,

Althaea, take thy daughter, for indeed

Thou shalt discern in me thy daughter true.

And yet not one of you has ever done 955

Such deed as mine. O all ye faithful wives,

Who have your seats within the sacred groves,

Expel me from Elysium's blessed fields.

But faithless wives, who with their husbands' blood

Have stained their hands, wrho have forgotten quite

Their marriage vows and stood with naked sword 960

Like Belus' bloody daughters, they will know

My deeds for theirs and praise them as their own.

To such a company of wives 'tis meet

That I betake myself; but even they

Will shun such dire companionship as mine.

O husband, strong, invincible, believe

My soul is innocent, although my hands

Are criminal. O mind too credulous! 965

0 Nessus, false and skilled in bestial guile !
Striving my hated rival to remove,

1 have destroyed myself. O beaming sun,
And thou, O life, that by thy coaxing arts
Dost strive to hold the wretched in the light,
Begone! for every day is vile to me

That shineth not upon my Hercules. 970

■ Reading, vacat.

Hercules Oetaeus 251

Oh, let me bear, myself, thy sufferings

And give my life for thee. Or shall 1 wait

And keep myself for death at thy right hand ?

Hast still some strength in thee, and can thy hands

Still bend the bow and speed the fatal shaft ?

Or do thy weapons lie unused, thy bow 975

No more obedient to thy nerveless hand ?

But if, perchance, thou still art strong to slay,

Undaunted husband, I await thy hand;

Yea, for this cause will I postpone my death.

As thou didst Lichas crush, though innocent,

Crush me, to other cities scatter me,

Yea, hurl me to a land to thee unknown. 980

Destroy me as thou didst the Arcadian boar,

And every monster that resisted1 thee.

But Oh, from them, my husband, thou didst come

Victorious and safe.
Ilyllus: Give o'er, I pray,

\My mother; cease to blame thy guiltless Jates.

Thy deed was but an error, not a fault.
Dciauira: My son, if thou wouldst truly filial be,

Come, slay thy mother. Why with trembling hand 985

Dost thou stand there ? Why turn away thy face ?

Such crime as this is truest piety.

Still dost thou lack incentive for the deed ?

Behold, this hand took Hercules from thee,

Took that great sire through whom thou dost derive

Thy blood from thundering Jove. I've stolen from thee

A greater glory than the life I gave 990

At birth. If thou art all unskilled in crime,

Learn from thy mother; wouldst thou thrust the sword

Into my neck, or sheath it in my womb,

I'll make thy soul courageous for the deed.

Thou wilt not be the doer of this crime;

For though 'tis by thy hand that I shall fall, 995

'Twill be my will. O son of Hercules,

Art thou afraid ? Wilt thou not be like him,

Perform thy bidden tasks, the monsters slay ?

1 Reading, rcslilil.

252 The Tragedies of Seneca

Prepare thy dauntless hand. Behold my breast,

So full of cares, lies open to thy stroke. 1000

Smite: 1 forgive the deed; the very fiends,

The dread Eumenides, will spare thy hand.

But hark! I hear their dreadful scourges sound.

Sir! Who is that who coils her snaky locks,

And at her ugly temples brandishes

Two deadly1 darts? Why dost thou follow me, 1005

0 dire Megaera, with thy blazing brand ?

Dost thou seek penalty for Hercules?

1 will discharge it. O thou dreadful one,
Already have the arbiters of hell

Passed judgment on me ? Lo, I see the doors
Of that sad prison-house unfold for me.
Who is that ancient man who on his back,
Worn with the toil, the stone's huge burden heaves ? 1010

And even as I look the conquered stone
Rolls back again. Who on the whirling wheel
Is racked? And see! There stands Tisiphone,
With ghastly, cruel face; she seeks revenge.
Oh, spare thy scourge, Megaera, spare, I pray,
Thy Stygian brands. 'Twas love that prompted me. 1015

But what is this ? The earth is tottering,
The palace roof is crashing to its fall.
Whence comes that threatening throng ? Against me comes
The whole world rushing; see, on every side
The nations gnash at me, demanding back
Their savior. O ye cities, spare, I pray. 1020

Oh, whither shall I hide me from their rage ?
Death is the only haven left to me.
By gleaming Phoebus' fiery disk I swear,
By all the gods of heaven: I go to death,
But leave Alcides still upon the earth.
[She rushes from the scene.]
Hyllus: ( Ah me, in mood of frenzy has she fled.

My mother's part in this sad tragedy 1025

Is self-assigned; she is resolved to die.

My part remains to thwart her dread resolve.

' ReadingVa/raJ.

Hercules Oetaeus 253

0 wretched piety! O filial love!

If now my mother's death I should prevent,

1 wrong my father; if I let her die,

/ 'Gainst her I sin. Crime stands on either hand;

Yet must I check her and true crime withstand. 1030

Chorus: The sacred singer's wort! was true

Which once on Thracian Rhodope,
Orpheus, the heavenly Muse's son,
Sang to his lute Pierian:

That naught for endless life is made. 1035

At his sweet strains the rushing stream
Its uproar stilled, and all its waves
Paused in forgetfulness of flight;

And while the waters stayed to hear, 1040

The tribes far down the Hebrus' stream
Deemed that their river was no more.
All winged creatures of the wood
And e'en the woods themselves came near
To listen; or, if far on high

Some bird was wheeling through the air, 1045

To that sweet music swift he fell
On drooping wings. The mountains came:
Rough Athos with its Centaur herd,
And Rhodope, its drifted snows

Loosed by the magic of that song, 1050

Stood by to hear. The Dryads left
The shelter of their oaken trunks
And gathered round the tuneful bard.
The beasts came, too, and with them came 1055

Their lairs; hard by the fearless flocks
The tawny Afric lion crouched;
The timid does feared not the wolves;
And serpents crawled forth to the light,
Their venom quite forgot. 1060

When through the doors of Taenara
He made his way to the silent land,
Sounding his mournful lyre the while,
The glooms of Tartara were filled

i

254 The Tragedies of Seneca

With his sad song; and the sullen gods

< u Erebus were moved to tears. , 1065

He feared no! the |hk>I of the Stygian stream

By whose dread waves the heavenly gods

Make oath unbreakable.

The whirling tim of the restless wheel
Stood still, its breathless speed at rest. 1070

The immortal liver of Tityos
Grew, undevoured, while at the song
The spellbound birds forgot their greed.
Thou, too, didst hear, O boatman grim,
And thy bark that plies the infernal stream
With oars all motionless came on.

Then first the hoary Phrygian 1075

Forgot his thirst, although no more
The mocking waters fled his lips
But stood enchanted; now no more
He reaches hungry hands to grasp
The luscious fruit.

When thus through that dark world of souls
Sweet Orpheus poured such heavenly strains 1080

That the impious rock of Sisyphus
Was moved to follow him;
Then did the goddesses of fate
Renew the exhausted thread of life
For fair Eurydice. But when,

Unmindful of the law they gave, 1085

And scarce believing that his wife
Was following, the hapless man
Looked back, he lost his prize of song;
For she, who to the very verge
Of life had come again, fell back
And died again.
\ Then, seeking solace still in song, 1090

Orpheus unto the Getans sang:

The gods themselves are under law,

Yea he, who through the changing year

Directs the seasons in their course. 1095

Hercules Oetaeus 255

Dead Hercules bids us believe
The bard, that not for any man
The fates reweave the broken web;
And that all things which have- been bun, 1100

And shall be, are but born to die.
When to the world the day shall come
On which the reign of law shall cease,
Then shall the southern heavens fall,

And overwhelm broad Africa 1 105

With all her tribes; the northern skies
Shall fall upon those barren plains
Where sweep the blasts of Boreas.
Then from the shattered heaven the sun
Shall fall, and day shall be no more. mo

The palace of the heavenly ones
Shall sink in ruins, dragging down
The east and western skies. Then death
And chaos shall o'erwhelm the gods 1115

In common ruin; and at last,
When all things else have been destroyed,
\Death shall bring death unto itself.
Where shall the earth find haven then ?
Will hades open wide her doors

To let the shattered heavens in ? 1 120

Or is the space 'twixt heaven and earth
Not great enough (perchance too great)
For all the evils of the world ?
What place is great enough to hold
Such monstrous ills of fate ?' What place
\\ ill hold the gods? Shall one place then 1 125

Contain three kingdoms— sea and sky
And Tartara ? —
But what outrageous clamor this
That fills our frightened ears ? Behold,
It is the voice of Hercules. 1 1 30

■ Reading, iati.

atf

T H I T RAGED! l S OF SKNECA

ACT IV

[Enter Hercules in the extremity oj suffering.]
Hercules: Turn back thy panting steeds, thou shining sun,
And bid the nighl come forth. Biol oul the day,
And lei the heavens, with pitchy darkness filled,
Conceal my dying pains from Juno's eyes.
Now, father, wire it fitting to recall

hark chaos; now the joinings of the skies 1135

Should be asunder rent, and pole from pole
Be cleft. Why, father, dost thou spare the stars?
Thy Hercules is lost. Now, Jupiter,
Look well to every region of the heavens,
Lest any Gyas hurl again the crags

Of Thessaly, and Othrys be again 1140

An easy missile for Enceladus.
Now, even now will haughty Pluto loose
The gates of hell, strike off his father's chains,
And give him back to heaven. Since Hercules,
Who on the earth has seen thy thunderbolt
And lightning flash, must turn him back to Styx;
Enceladus the fierce will rise again, 1145

And hurl against the gods that mighty weight
Which now oppresses him. O Jupiter,
My death throughout the kingdom of the sky
" -Shall shake thy sovereignty. Then, ere thy throne
, Become the giants' spoil, give burial
Beneath the ruined universe to me;

Oh, rend thy kingdom ere 'tis rent from thee. 1150

Chorus: No empty fears, O Thunderer's son,

Dost thou express: for soon again

Shall Pelion on Ossa rest;

And Athos, heaped on Pindus, thrust

Its woods amidst the stars of heaven.

Then shall Typhoeus heave aside 1155

The crags of Tuscan Ischia;

Enceladus, not yet o'ercome

By thunderbolts, shall bear aloft

The huge Aetnaean furnaces,

And rend the gaping mountain side.

Hercules Oetaeus 257

So shall it be; for even now

The skies are tottering with thy fall. 1160

Hercules: Lo I, who have escaped the hands of death,

Who scorned the Styx, and thence through Lethe's pool

Returned with spoil so grim and terrible,

That Titan from his reeling chariot

Was well-nigh thrown; I, whom three realms have felt:

I feel the pangs of death, and yet no sword 1165

Has pierced my side, nor has some mighty crag,

All Othrys, been the weapon of my death;

No giant with his fierce and gaping jaws

Has heaped high Pindus on my lifeless corpse.

Without an enemy am I o'erwhelmed; s. iT7°

And, what brings greater anguish to my soul \

(Shame to my manhood!), this my final day

Has seen no monster slain. Ah, woe is me '.

My life is squandered — and for no return.'

O thou, whose rule is over all the world;

Ye gods of heaven who have beheld my deeds;

O earth, is't fitting that your Hercules 11 75

Should die by such a death ? Oh, cruel shame !

Oh, base and bitter end — that fame should say

Great Hercules was by a woman slain,

He who in mortal combat has o'ercome1

So many men and beasts! If changeless fate

Had willed that I by woman's hand should die, 1180

And if to such base end my thread of life,

Alas, must lead, Oh, that I might have fallen

By Juno's hate. 'Twould be by woman's hand,

But one who holds the heavens in her sway.

If that, ye gods, were more than I should ask,

The Amazon, beneath the Scythian skies

Brought forth, might better have o'ercome my strength.

But by what woman's hand shall I be said, 1185

Great Juno's enemy, to have been slain ?

This is for thee, my stepdame, deeper shame.

Why shouldsl thou call this day a day of joy?

What baleful thing like this has earth produced

1 Reading, auclor.

T 11 i Tragedies oi Seneca

To sate tliy wrath ? A mortal woman's hate
> lias far excelled thine own. 'Twas late thy shame,
To feci thyself by Hercules alone
Outmatched; but now must thou confess thyself
By two o'ercome. Shame on such heavenly wrath!
( >h, that the Nemean lion of my blood
Had drunk his till, and Oh, that 1 had fed
The hydra with his hundred snaky heads
Upon my gore! Oh, that the centaurs fierce
Had made a prey of me; or 'midst the shades
I, bound upon the everlasting rock,
Were sitting, lost in misery! But no:
From every distant land I've taken spoil,
While fate looked on amazed; from hellish Styx
Have I come back to earth; the bonds of Dis
1 1 have o'ercome. Death shunned me everywhere,
That I might lack at last a glorious end.
Alas for all the monsters I have slain !
Oh, why did not three-headed Cerberus,
When he had seen the sunlight, drag me back
To hell ? Why, far away 'neath western skies,
Did not the monstrous shepherd lay me low ?
And those twin serpents huge — ah, woe is me,
How often have I 'scaped a glorious death !
What honor comes from such an end at this ?
Chorus: Dost see how, conscious of his fame,

i He does not shrink from Lethe's stream ?
Not grief for death, but shame he feels
At this his cause of death; he longs
Beneath some giant's vasty bulk
To draw his final breath, to feel
Some mountain-heaving Titan's weight
Oppressing him, to owe his death
To some wild, raging beast. But no,
Poor soul, because of thine own hand
There is no deadly monster more. ^
What worthy author of thy death,
Save that right hand of thine, is left ?
Hercules: Alas, what Scorpion, what Cancer, torn

1 1 90

"95

1200

1205

1210

1215

Hercules Oetaeus 259

From Summer's burning zone, inflames my breast ?

!My lungs, once filled with pulsing streams of blood, 1220

Are dry and empty now; my liver burns,

Its healthy juices parched and dried away;

And all my blood is by slow creeping fires

Consumed. Destruction on my skin feeds first,

Then deep within my flesh it eats its way, 1225

Devours my sides, my limbs and breast consumes,

Dries up the very marrow of my bones.

There in my empty bones the pest remains;

Nor can my massive frame for long endure,

But even now, with broken, crumbling joints,

Begins to fall away. My strength is gone, i23°

And e'en the limbs of mighty Hercules

Arc not enough to satisfy this pest.

Alas, how mighty must that evil be,

When I confess it great! Oh, cruel wrong!

Now see, ye cities, see what now remains

Of famous Hercules. Dost know thy son,

O father Jove? Was't with such arms as these 1235

That I crushed out the Nemean monster's life ?

Did this hand stretch that mighty bow of mine

Which brought to earth from out the very stars

The vile Stymphalian birds? These sluggish feet —

Did they outstrip the swiftly fleeing stag,

With golden antlers gleaming on his head ?

Did rocky Calpe, shattered by these hands, 1240

Let out the sea ? So many monstrous beasts,

So many cruel men, so many kings —

Did these poor hands of mine destroy them all ?
I Upon these shoulders did the heavens rest ?

Is this my mighty frame ? Is this my neck ?
S Are these the hands which once the tottering skies

I'pheld ? Oh, can it be that ever I

The Stygian watchdog dragged into the light ? 1245

Where are those powers, which ere their proper time

Are dead and buried ? Why on Jupiter

As father do I call ? Why, wretched one.

Do I lay claim to heaven by right of him ?

260 The Tragedies of Seneca

For qow, Oh, now will L be thought the son
Of old Amphitryon. <) deadly pest,
Whate'er thou art which in my vitals lurk'st,

Pome forth. Why with ;i hidden agony 1250

}Dost thou afflict my heart ? What Scythian sea
Beneath the frozen north, what Telhys slow,
What Spanish Calpe nigh the Moorish shore
Begot and brought thee forth ? O evil dire!
Art thou some crested serpent brandishing
Its hideous head; or some fell thing of ill 1255

As yet unknown to me, produced perchance
From Hydra's poisonous gore, or left on earth
By Cerberus, the deadly dog of Styx ?
Oh, every ill art thou, and yet no ill.
What are thy form and features ? Grant at least
That I may know the thing by which I die.
Whate'er thy name, whatever monster thou, 1260

Come out, and show thy terror to my face.
What enemy has made a way for thee
Unto my inmost heart ? Behold my hands
Have torn aside my burning skin and so
My bleeding flesh disclosed. But deeper yet
Its hiding-place. Oh, woe invincible

As Hercules! But whence these grievous cries ? 1265

And whence these tears which trickle down my cheeks ?
Mv face, unmoved by grief, has never yet
Been wet with tears; but now, Oh, shame to me,
Has learned to weep. Where is the day, the land,
That has beheld the tears of Hercules ?
Dry-eyed have I my troubles ever borne.

To thee alone, dire pest, to thee alone 1270

That strength has yielded which so many ills
Has overcome. Thou first, yea, first of all
Hast forced the tear-drops from these stubborn eyes.
For, harder than the bristling crag, or steel,
Or than the wandering Symplegades,
Hast thou my stern face softened, and my tears,
Unwilling, forced to flow. And now the world, 1275

O thou most mighty ruler of the skies,

Hercules Oetaeus

261

Has seen me giving way to tears and groans;
And, that which brings me greater anguish still,/
My stepdame too has seen. But lo, again
The scorching heat flames up and burns my heart.
Oh, slay me, father, with thy heavenly dart.
Chorus: Where is the strength that can withstand

The power of suffering? But now

More hard than Thracian Haemus' crags, 1280

Sterner than savage northern skies,

He is by agony subdued.

His fainting head upon his breast

Falls low; his massive frame he shifts

From side to side; now and again

His manly courage dries his tears. 1285

So, with however warm a flame

Bright Titan labors to dissolve

The arctic snows, still are his fires

By those bright, icy rays outshone.
Hercules: O father, turn and look upon my woes. 1290

Never till now has great Alcides fled
To thee for aid; not when around my limbs
The deadly hydra, fertile in its death,
Its writhing serpents folded. 'Mid the pools
Of hell, by that thick pall of death I stood
Surrounded close; and yet I called thee not.
How many dreadful beasts have I o'ercomr, 1295

How many kings and tyrants; yet my face
Have I ne'er turned in suppliance to the sky.
This hand of mine alone has been the god
Who heard my prayers. No gleaming thunderbolts
Have ever flashed from heaven on my account.
Hut now at last has come a woeful time

Which bids me ask for aid. This day, the first 1300

And last, shall hear the prayers of llrn ules.
One thunderbolt I ask, and only one.
Consider me a giant storming heaven.
Yea, heaven I might have stormed in very truth;
But, since I deemed thee sire, I spared the skies. -
Oh, whether thou be harsh or merciful, 1305

(

a6a T ii i Tkaci i>ii s of Seneca

Stretch forth thy hand and grant me speedy death,

And gain this greal renown unto thy name

( >r. if thy righteous hand refuse a task

So impious, send forth from Sicily

Those burning Titans, who with gianl hands

May Pindus huge upheave, and Ossa too, 1310

And overwhelm me with their crushing weight.

Lei dire Bellona burst the bars of hell,

And with her gleaming weapon pierce my heart;

< >r let tunc Mars be armed for my dcalh;

He is my brother; true, but Juno's son.

Thou also, sprung from father Jove, and so

Alcides' sister, bright Athene, come, 1315

And hurl thy spear against thy brother's breast.

And e'en to thee I stretch my suppliant hands,

0 cruel stepdame; thou at least, I pray,
Let fly thy dart (so by a woman's hand

1 may be slain), thine anger soothed at last,
\Thy thirst for vengeance sated. Why dost thou

\Still nurse thy wrath? Why further seek revenge? 1320

Behold Alcides suppliant to thee,

Which no wild beast, no land has ever seen.

But now, O Juno, when I need thy wrath,

Is now thine anger cooled, thy hate forgot ?

Thou giv'st me life when 'tis for death I pray.

O lands, and countless cities of the earth, 1325

Is there no one among you all to bring

A blazing torch for mighty Hercules ?

Will no one give me arms ? Why take away

My weapons from my hands ? Then let no land

Bring forth dire monsters more when I am dead,

And let the world not ask for aid of mine.

If other ills are born into the world,

Then must another savior come as well. 1330

Oh, bring ye heavy stones from every side

And hurl them at my wretched head; and so

O'erwhelm at last my woes. Ungrateful world,

Dost thou refuse ? Hast thou forgot me quite ?

Thou wouldst thyself have been a helpless prey

Hercules Oetaeus

263

Alcmena:

Hi rculcs.

Alcmena:

Hcrcuhs.
Alcmena:
Hercules.
Alcmena:
Hercules.
Alcmena:
Hi rculcs.
Alcmena:
Hercules.

To evil monsters, had not I been born.

Then, O ye peoples, rescue me from ill, 1335

Your champion. This chance is given you,

By slaying me to cancel all you owe.
[Enter Alcmena.]

Where shall Alcides' wretched mother go ?

Where is my son ? Lo, if I see aright,

Yonder he lies with burning fever tossed

And throbbing heart. I hear his groans of pain. 1340

Ah me, his life is at an end. My son,

Come, let me fold thee in a last embrace,

And catch thy parting spirit in my mouth;

These arms of mine upon thine own I'll lay.

But where are they ? Where is that sturdy neck
i Which bore the burden of the starry heavens?

What cause has left to thee so small a part

Of thy once massive frame ? 1345

Thou seest, indeed,

The shadow and the piteous counterfeit

Of thine Alcides. Come, behold thy son.

But why dost turn away and hide thy face?
\ Art thou ashamed that such as I am called
'Thy son ?

What land, what world has given birth

To this new monster ? What so dire a thing 1350

Has triumphed over mighty Hercules ?

By my own wife's deceits am I undone.

What fraud is great enough to conquer thee ?

Whate're is great enough for woman's wrath.

How got the pest so deep within thy frame? 1355

Through a poisoned robe sent by a woman's hands.

Where is the robe ? I see thy limbs are bare.

With me 'tis all consumed.

How can it be?

I tell thee, mother, through my vitals roam

The hydra and a thousand poisonous beasts. 1360

What flames as hot as these invade the clouds

O'er Aetna's top? What glowing Lemnian fires,

What torrid radiance of the burning heavens,

364 Thi Tragedies of Seneca

Within whose scorching /.one the day comes not?

O comrades, take and throw me in t he sea,

( >r in the river's rushing stream alas, 1365

Where is the stream that will suffice for me?

Though greater than all lands, nol ocean's self

v Can cool my burning pains. To ease my woe

All streams were not enough, all springs would fail.

Why, O thou lord of Erebus, didst thou

To Jove return me ? Better had it been

To hold me fast. Oh, take me back again, 1370

Vnd show me as I am to those fell shades

Whom I subdued. Naught will I take away.

Thou hast no need to fear Alcides more.

Come death, attack me; have no fear of me;

For I at length am fain to welcome thee.
Alcmcna: Restrain thy tears at least; subdue thy pains.

Come, show thyself unconqucred still by woe; 1375

I And death and hell, as is thy wont, defy.
Hercules: n on the heights of Caucasus I lay

In chains, to greedy birds of prey exposed,
\ While Scythia wailed in sympathy with me,

No sound of woe should issue from my lips;

Or should the huge, unfixed Symplegades 1380

Together clash and threaten me with death,

I'd bear unmoved the threatened agony.

Should Pindus fall upon me, Haemus too,

Tall Athos which defies the Thracian seas,

And Mimas at whose towering peaks are hurled

The bolts of Jove — if e'en the sky itself 1385

) Should fall upon my head, and Phoebus' car

In blazing torture on my shoulders lie:

No coward cry of pain would ever show

The mind of Hercules subdued. Nay more:

Although a thousand monstrous beasts at once

Should rush upon and rend me limb from limb;

Though here Stymphalus' bird with clangor wild, 1390

And there with all his strength the threat'ning bull,

And all fierce, monstrous things, should press me hard;

Nay, though the very soil of earth should rise

Hercules Oetaeus

265

And shriek' its rage at me from every side;

Though Sinis dire should hurl me through the air:

Though sore besteail and mangled, still would I

In silence bear it all. No beasts, no arms,

Xo weapon wielded by the hand of man,

Could force from me a single word of pain. 1395

Alcntena: No woman's poison burns thy limbs, my son;

Hut thy long years of work, thy constant toils,

Have for thy woe some evil sickness bred.
Hercules: Sickness, say'st thou ? Where may this sickness be ?

Does any evil still upon the earth

Exist, with me alive ? But let it come.

Let someone quickly bring my bow to me — 1400

But no: my naked hands will be enough.

Now bid the monster come.
Alcntena: Alas, his pains,

Too great, have reft his senses quite away.

Remove his weapons, take those deadly shafts

Out of his reach, I pray. His burning cheeks 1405

Some violence portend. Oh, where shall I,

A helpless, aged woman hide myself?

That grief of his has changed to maddened rage,

And that alone is master of him now.

Why should I, therefore, foolish that I am,

Seek hiding-place or flight ? By some brave hand

Alcmena has deserved to meet her death.

So let me perish even impiously, 1410

Before some craven soul command my death,

Or some base creature triumph over me.

But sec, outworn by woe, his weary heart

Is in the soothing bonds of slumber bound;

His panting chest with labored breathing heaves.

Have mercy, O ye gods. If ye from me 1415

Have willed to take my glorious son, at least

Spare to the world, I pray, its champion.

Let all his pains depart, and once again

Let .great Alcides' frame renew its strength.
[Enter Hyllus.]

1 Reading, fremens.

266

The Tragedies of Seneca

Hvllits: O hitler light, O day with evil filled!

Dead is the Thunderer's daughter, and his son
Lies dying! I alone of all survive.

By my own mother's erime my father dies,
But she by guile was snared. What agexl man,
Throughout the round of years, in all his life,
Will e'er be able to recount such woes ?
One day has snatched away my parents both.
But though I say naught of my other ills,
And cease to blame the fates, still must I say:
Mv sire, the mighty Hercules, is gone.

Alcmcna: Restrain thy words, child of illustrious sire,
And matched with sad Alcmena in her grief;
Perchance long slumber will assuage his pain.
But see, repose deserts his weary heart,
And gives him back to suffering, me to grief.

Hercides [awakening in delirium): Why, what is this? Do I with
waking eyes
See little Trachin on her craggy seat,
Or, set amongst the stars, have I at length
Escaped the race of men ? Who opes for me
The gate of heaven ? Thee, father, now I see,
Thee, and my stepdame too at last appeased.
What heavenly sound is this that fills my ears ?
Great Juno calls me son ! Now I behold
The gleaming palace of the heavenly world,
And Phoebus' path worn by his burning wheels.

[Beginning to come out oj his delirium.']
,1 see night's couch; her shadows call me hence.

1420

1425

143°

1435

But whaTis this ? who shuts me out of heaven,
And from the stars, O father, leads me down ?
\ I felt the glow of Phoebus on my face,
So near to heaven was I; but now, alas,
'Tis Trachin that I see. Oh, who to earth
Has given me back again ? A moment since,
And Oeta's lofty peak stood far below,
And all the world was lying at my feet.
How sweet the respite that I had from thee,
O grief. Thou mak'st me to confess — but stay,

1440

1445

Hercules Oetaeus

267

Let not such shameful words escape thy lips.

[To Hyllus.]
This woe, my son, is of thy mother's gift.
Oh, that I might crush out her guilty life
With my great club, as once the Amazons
I smote upon the snowy Caucasus.
O well-loved Megara, to think that thou
Wast wife of mine when in that fit I fell
Of maddened rage! Give me my club and bow;
Let my hand be disgraced, and with a blot
Let me destroy the luster of my praise —
My latest conquest on a woman gained !

Hyllus: Now curb the dreadful threatenings of thy wrath;
She has her wound — 'tis over — and has paid
The penalty which thou wouldst have her pay:
For now, self-slain, my mother lies in death.

Hercules: O grief, still with me! She deserved to die
Beneath the hands of angry Hercules.

0 Lichas, thou hast lost thy mate in death.
So hot my wrath, against her helpless corpse

1 still would rage. Why does her body lie
Secure from my assaults ? Go cast it out
To be a banquet for the birds of prey.

Hyllus: She suffered more than even thou wouldst wish.
Self-slain, and grieving sore for thee, she died.
But 'tis not by a cruel wife's deceit,
Nor by my mother's guile, thou liest low.
By Nessus was this deadly plot conceived,
Who, smitten by thine arrow, lost his life.
'Twas in the centaur's gore the robe was dipped,
And by thy pains he doth requite his own.

Ifircules: Then truly are his pains well recompensed,
And my own doubtful oracles explained.
This fate the talking oak foretold to me,
And Delphi's oracle, whose sacred voice
Shook Cirrha's temples and Parnassus' slopes:
''By hand of one whom thou hast slain, some day,
Victorious Hercules, shalt thou lie low.
This end, when thou hast traversed sea and land,

1450

1455

1460

1465

1470

'475

26S The T r a c. i dj e s of S e n e c a

And the realm of spirits, is reserved for thee."

Now will we grieve QO more; SUCh end is meet;

Thus shall no conqueror of Hercules 1480

Survive to tell the tale. Now shall my death

Be glorious, illustrious, renowned,

And worthy of myself. This final day

Will I make famous in the ears of men.

Go, cut down all the woods, and Oeta's groves

Bring hither, that a mighty funeral pyre

May hold great Hercules before he dies.

And thee, dear son of Poeas, thee I ask 1485

To do this last, sad office for thy friend,

And all the sky illumine with the flames

Of Hercules. And now to thee this prayer,

This last request, Hyllus, my son, I make:

Among my captives is a beauteous maid,

Of noble breeding and of royal birth.

'Tis Iole, the child of Eurytus. 149°

Her would I have thee to thy chamber lead

With fitting marriage rites; for, stained with blood,

Victorious, I robbed her of her home

And fatherland; and in return, poor girl,

Naught save Alcides have I given her;

And he is gone. Then let her soothe her woes

In the embrace of him who boasts the blood 1495

Of Jove and Hercules. Whatever seed

She has conceived of me let her to thee

Bring forth.

[To Alcmena.]
And do thou cease thy plaints, I pray,
For me, great mother; thy Alcides lives;
And by my might have I my stepdame made
To seem but as the concubine of Jove. 1500

Whether the story of the night prolonged
At Hercules' begetting be the truth,
Or whether I was got of mortal sire —
Though I be falsely called the son of Jove,
I have indeed deserved to be his son;
For I have honored him, and to his praise 1505

Hercules Oetaeus 269

My mother brought me forth. Nay, Jove himself

Is proud that he is held to be my sire.

Then cease thy tears, O mother; thou shalt be

Of high degree among Argolic dames.

For no such son as thine has Juno borne,

Though she may wield the scepter of the skies, 15 10

The Thunderer's bride. And yet, though holding heaven,

She grudged Alcidcs to a mortal birth,

And wished that she might call him son of hers.

Now, Titan, must thou go thy way alone;

For I, who have thy constant comrade been,

Am bound for Tartara, the world of shades.

Yet down to hell I bear this noble praise: 15 15

That openly no monster conquered me,

But that I conquered all — and openly.

Chorus: Bright sun, thou glory of the world,

At whose first rays wan Hecate
\ Unyokes the weary steeds of night, 1520

To east and west the message tell ;

To those who suffer 'neath the Bear,
]And who, beneath thy burning car

Are tortured: Hercules prepares

To speed him to the world of shades, 1525

The realm of sleepless Cerberus,

Whence he will1 ne'er again return.

Let thy bright rays be overcast

With clouds; gaze on the mourning world

With pallid face; and let thy head
Tn thick and murky mists be veiled. 1530

When, Titan, where, beneath what sky,

Shalt thou behold upon the earth

Another such as Herculo ?

Whom shall the wretched land invoke,

If any hundred-headed pest,

In Lerna born, spring up anew 1535

And spread destruction; if again

Some lx>ar in ancient Arcady

Infest the woods; or if again

■ Reading, remcabil.

270 The Tragedies 01 Seneca

Some son <>f Thradan Rhodope,

With heart more hard than the frozen lands

That lie 'neath snowy Helii c,

Should slain liis stalls with human gore? 1540

Who will give peace to the trembling folk

If angry gods with monstrous birth

Should curse the world again? Behold,

The mate for common man he lies,

Whom earth produced a mate for Jove.

Let lamentations loud resound 1545

Through all the world; with streaming hair

Let women smite their naked arms;

Let all the temples of the gods

Be closed save Juno's; she alone

Is free from care.

To Lethe and the Stygian shore 1550

Now art thou going, whence no keel

Will ever bring thee back. Thou goest,

Lamented one, unto the shades,

Whence, death o'ercome, thou once return'dst

In triumph with thy prize; but now,

An empty shade, with flcshless arms,

Wan face, and slender, drooping neck, 1555

Thou goest back. Nor will the skiff

(Which once bore only thee and feared

That even so 'twould be o'erturned)

Bear thee alone across the stream.

But not with common shades shalt thou

Be herded. Thou with Aeacus1

And pious kings of Crete shalt sit

In judgment on the deeds of men,

And punish tyrants. O ye kings, 1560

Be merciful, restrain_your hands.

'Tis worthy praise to keep the sword

Unstained with blood; while thou didst reign,/

Upon thy realm to have allowed

Least privilege to bloody2 fate.

But place among the stars is given

1 Reading. Aeacon. * Reading, minimum cruenlis.

Hercules Oetaeus ' 271

To manly virtue. Shall thou hold 1565

Thy seat within the northern skies,
Or where his fiercest rays the sun
Sends forth ? Or in the balmy west
Wilt shine, where thou mayst hear the waves
On Calpe's shore resound ? What place
In heaven serene shalt thou obtain ? 1570

When great Alcides is received
\Among the stars, who will be free
From fear? May Jove assign thy place
Far from the raging Lion's seat,
And burning Crab, lest at sight of thee
The frightened stars confuse their laws
And Titan quake with fear. 1575

So long as blooming flowers shall come
With wakening spring; while winter's frosts
Strip bare the trees, and summer suns
Reclothe them with their wonted green;
While in the autumn ripened fruits

Fall to the ground: no lapse of time 1580

Shall e'er destroy thy memory
Upon the earth. For thou shalt live
As comrade of the sun and stars.
Sooner shall wheat grow in the sea,
Or stormy straits with gentle waves
Beat on the shore; sooner descend
The Bear from out his frozen sky

And bathe him in forbidden waves: 1585

Than shall the thankful people cease
* To sing thy pra

And now to thee,
O father of the world, we pray:
Let do dread beast be born on earth,
\ . monstrous pest; keep this poor world
Prom abject fear of heartless kin-
Let no one hold the reins of power 1500
Who deems his kingdom's glory lies
In the terror of his naked sword.
But if again some thing of dread

The Tragedies of Seneca

Appear upon the earth, Oh, give,
We pray, another champion.

Hut what is this? Thr heavens resound. 1595

Behold Alddes' father mourns,
_He mourns his son. Or is't the sound
^ Of grieving gods, or the cry of fear

Of the timid Stepdame ? Can it lie-
That at the sight of Hercules

Great Juno flees the stars? Perchance

Beneath the added weight of heaven

Tall Atlas reels. Or do the shades 1600

Cry out in fear of Hercules,

While Cerberus with broken chains

In panic flees the sight ? Not so:

Behold, 'tis Poeas' son, who comes

With looks of gladness. See, he bears

The well-known quiver and the shafts 1605

Of Hercules.

ACT V

{/Inter Philoctetes.]
Nurse: Speak out, good youth, and tell the end, I pray,

Of Hercules. How did he meet his death ?
Philoctetes: More gladly than another meets his life.
Xiirse: What ? Did he then rejoice him in the fire ?
Philoctetes: He showed that burning flames were naught to him. 16 10

What is there in the world which Hercules

Has left unconquered ? He has vanquished all.
Nurse: What chance for glory on the funeral pyre ?
Philoctetes: One evil thing remained upon the earth

Which he had not o'ercome — the power of fire. 1615

But this has now been added to the beasts,

And fire is one of great Alcides' toils.
Nurse: But tell us in what way he conquered fire.
Philoctetes: When all his sorrowing friends began to fell

The trees on Oeta's slopes, beneath one hand

The beech-tree lost its foliage and lay,

Its mighty trunk prone on the ground. One hand

With deadly stroke attacked the towering pine, 1620

Hercules Oetaeus 273

Which lifted to the stars its threatening top,
And railed it from the clouds. In act to fall,
It shook its rocky crag, and with a crash
Whelmed all the lesser forest in its fall.
Within the forest was a certain oak,
Wide-spreading, vast, like that Chaonian tree
Of prophecy, whose shade shuts out the sun,
Embracing all the grove1 within its arms. 1625

By many a blow beset, it groans at first
In threatening wise, and all the wedges breaks;
The smiting axe bounds back, its edges dulled,
Too soft for such a task. At length the tree,
Long wavering, falls with widespread ruin down.
Straightway the place admits the sun's bright rays; 1630

The birds, their tree o'erthrown, fly twittering round,
And seek their vanished homes on wearied wing.
Now every tree resounds; even the oaks
Feel in their sacred sides the piercing steel,
Xor does its ancient sanctity protect 1635

The grove. The wood into a pile is heaped;
Its logs alternate rising high aloft,
Make all too small a pyre for Hercules:
The pine inflammable, tough-fibered oak,

The ilex' shorter trunks. But poplar trees, 1640

Whose foliage adorned Alcides' brow,
Fill up the space and make the pyre complete.
But he, like some great lion in the woods
Of Libya lying, roaring out his pain,
Is borne along — but who would e'er believe
That he was hurrying to his funeral pyre?
His gaze wis fixed upon the stars of heaven, 1645

Not tires of earth, when to the mount he came
And with his eyes surveyed the mighty pyre.
The great beams groaned and broke beneath his weight.
Now he demands his bow. "Take this," he said,
"O son of Foeas, take this as the gift
And pledge of love from Hercules to thee.
These deadly shafts the poisonous hydra felt; 1650

1 Reading, lumus.

274 The Tragedies of Seneca

With these the vile Stymphalian birds lie low;

And every other monster which I slew

With distant aim. O noble youth, go on

In victory, for never 'gainst thy foes

Shalt thou send these in vain. Wouldst wish to bring

Birds from the very clouds? Down shall they fall,

And with them come thine arrows sure of prey. 1655

This bow shall never disappoint thy hand.

Well has it learned to poise the feathered shaft

And send it flying in unerring course.

The shafts themselves as well, loosed from the string,

Have never failed to find their destined mark.

But do thou in return, my only prayer,

Bring now the funeral torch and light the pyre. 1660

This club," he said, "which never hand but mine

Has wielded, shall the flames consume with me.

This weapon, only, shall to Hercules

Belong. But this, too, thou shouldst have from me

If thou couldst bear its weight. But let it serve

To aid its master's pyre." Then he required 1665

The shaggy spoil of the dire Nemean beast

To burn with him. The huge skin hid the pyre.

Now all the gazing crowd begin to groan,

And tears of woe to fall from every eye.

His mother bares her breast in eager grief

And smites her body stripped e'en to the loins 1670

For unrestrained lament; then all the gods

And Jupiter himself she supplicates,

While all the place re-echoes with her shrieks.
"Thou dost disgrace the death of Hercules,

O mother, check thy tears," Alcides said;
"Within thy heart thy woman's grief confine.

Why shouldst thou make this day a time of joy 1675

For Juno with thy tears ? For she, be sure,

Rejoices to behold her rival weep.

Then this unworthy grief, my mother, check.

It is not meet to abuse the breast that nursed,

And the womb that bore Alcides." Thus he spake;

Then with a dreadful cry, as when he led 1680

Hercules Oetaeus 275

The awful dog throughout the towns of Greece,

Returned triumphant o'er the shades of hell,

Scorning the lord of death and death itself,

So did he lay him down upon the pyre.

What victor in his chariot ever shone

With such triumphant joy ? What tyrant king

With such a countenance e'er uttered laws

Unto his subject tribes ? So deep his calm 1685

Of soul. All tears were dried, our sorrows shamed

To silence, and we groaned no more to think

That he must perish. E'en Alcmena's self,

Whose sex is prone to mourn, now tearless stood,

A worthy mother of her noble son. 1690

Xitrse: But did he, on the verge of death, no prayer

To heaven breathe, no aid from Jove implore?

Philoctetes: With peaceful soul he lay, and scanned the skies,
As searching from what quarter of the heavens
His sire would look on him, and thus he spake, 1695

With hands outstretched: "O father, whencesoe'er
From heaven thou lookest down upon thy son —
He truly is my father for whose sake
One day of old was swallowed up in night —
If both the bounds of Phoebus sing my praise,
If Scythia, and all the sun-parched lands; 1700

If peace fills all the world; if cities groan
Beneath no tyrant's hand, and no one stains
With blood of guests his impious altar stones;
If horrid crimes have ceased: then, take, I pray.
My spirit to the skies. I have no fear

Of death, nor do the gloomy realms of Dis 1705

Affright my soul; but Oh, I blush with shame
To go, a naked shade, unto those gods
Whom I myself aforetime overcame.
Dispel the clouds and ope the gates of heaven,
That all the gods may see Alcides burn.
Though thou refuse me place among the stars,
Thou shalt be forced to grant my prayer. Ah no: 1710

\\ grief can palliate my impious words,
Forgive; spread wide the Stygian pools for me,

276 The Tragedies of Seneca

And give me up to death. But first, O sire,

Approve thy son. This day at least shall show
That I am worthy of the skies. All deeds

Which I have done before seem worthless now; 1715

This day shall prove me worthy, or condemn."
When he had spoken thus he called for fire:
"Come hither now, comrade of Hercules,
With willing hand take up the funeral torch.
Why (lost thou tremble? Does thy timid hand
Shrink from the deed as from an impious crime?
Then give me back my quiver, coward, weak. 1720

Is that the hand which fain would bend my bow?
Why does such pallor sit upon thy checks ?
Come, ply the torch with that same fortitude
That thou dost see in me. Thy pattern take,
Poor soul, from him who faces fiery death.
But lo, my father calls me from the sky

And opens wide the gates. O sire, I come!" 1725

And as he spake his face was glorified.
Then did I with my trembling hand apply
The blazing torch. But see, the flames leap back,
And will not touch his limbs. But Hercules
Pursues the fleeing fires. You would suppose
That Caucasus or Pindus was ablaze, 1730

Or lofty Athos. Still no sound w^as heard
Save only that the flames made loud lament.
O stubborn heart ! Had Typhon huge been placed
Upon that pyre, or bold Enceladus,
Who bore uprooted Ossa on his back,

He would have groaned aloud in agony. 1735

But Hercules amidst the roaring flames
Stood up, all charred and torn, with dauntless gaze,
And said: "O mother, thus 'tis meet for thee
Beside the pyre of Hercules to stand.
Such mourning fits him well. Now dost thou seem
In very truth Alcides' mother." There, 1740

'Midst scorching heat and roaring flames he stood,
Unmoved, unshaken, showing naught of pain,
Encouraging, advising, active still.

Hercules Oetaeds 277

His own bravo spirit animated all.
You would have thought him burning with desire
To burn. The crowd looked on in speechless awe,
And scarce believed the flames to be true fire, 1745

So calm and so majestic was his mien.
Nor did he hasten to consume himself;
\But when he deemed that fortitude enough
'Was shown in death, from every hand he dragged
The burning logs which with least ardor glowed,
Piled them together in a mighty fire, 1750

And to the very center of the blaze
The dauntless hero went. Awhile he stood
And feasted on the flames his eager eyes.
Then from his heavy beard leaped gleaming fire.
But even when the flames assailed his face,
And licked his head with their hot, fiery tongues,
He did not close his eyes. 1755

But what is this ?
'Tis sad Alcmena. With what signs of woe
She makes her way, while in her breast she bears
The pitiful remains of Hercules.
[Enter Alcmena, carrying in Iter bosom a funeral urn.]
Alcmena: ) Ye powers of heaven, I bid jrou fear the fates.

[Holding up the urn.]
How small a space Alcides' ashes fill !
To this small compass has that giant come!

0 shining sun, how great a man has gone 1 760
To nothingness. Alas, this aged breast

Is large enough to be Alcides' tomb.
Behold, his ashes scarce can fill the urn.

1 low small his weight, upon whose shoulders once
The dome of heaven lay, a burden light.

Thou once didst go, my son, to Tartara, 1765

The farthest realms of death— and come again.

Oh, when wilt thou a second time return

From that infernal stream ? I ask thee not

To come again with spoil, nor bring again

Imprisoned Theseus to the light of day;

But only that thou come again — alone.

j ;S The Tragedies of Seneca

Will all the world, heaped on thee, hold thy shade, I77°

( >r Cerberus avail t<> keep thee back?

\\ luii wilt thou batter down the gates of hell,

Or to what portals shall thy mother go?

Where is the highway that leads down to deatli ?

E'en now thou tak'st thy journey to the shades,

Which thou wilt ne'er retrace. Why waste the hours

In vain complaints ? And why, O wretched life, 1775

Dost thou endure ? Why dost thou cling to day?

What Hercules can I again bring forth

To Jupiter ? What son so great as he

Will ever call Alcmena mother? Oh,

Too happy thou, my Theban husband, thou

Who didst to gloomy Tartara descend

.While still Alcides lived; at thine approach 1780

^The infernal deities were filled with fear

Of thee, though only the reputed sire

Of Hercules. What land will welcome me,

Now old and hated by all cruel kings

(If any cruel king remains alive) ?

Oh, woe is me ! Whatever orphaned son
) Laments his sire will strive to seek revenge 1785

From me, and I shall be the prey of all.

If any young Busiris or the son

Of dread Antaeus terrifies the land,

His booty shall I be. If anyone

Would make reprisal for the Thracian steeds

Of bloody Diomede, I shall be given 1 790

To feed those cruel herds. Juno perchance

Will be by passion pricked to seek revenge.

Now all her anger will be turned on me;

For, though her soul no longer is disturbed

Because of Hercules, I still am left,

Her hated rival. Ah, what punishment

Will she inflict, in fear lest I bring forth 1 795

Another son ! The mighty Hercules

Has made my womb a thing of terror still.

Where shall Alcmena take herself? What place,

What region of the universe will keep,

Hercules Oetaeus 279

What hitling-place conceal thy mother now,

Since she is known through thee in every land?

Shall I return unto my native shores,

My wretched lares? There Eurystheus reigns. 1800

Shall I seek out my husband's city, Thebes,

Ismenus' stream, and my own bridal bed

Where once, beloved, I saw great Jupiter?

Oh, happy, far too happy had I been,

If I myself, like Semele, had felt

The blasting presence of the thundering Jove!

Oh, would that from my womb Alcides, too, 1805

Untimely had been torn! But now 'tis given,

"lis given to see my son with mighty Jove

Vying in praise; would that this might be given,

To know from what fate he could rescue me.

What people now will live remembering thee,

O son? Ungrateful are they all alike. 1810

Cleonae shall I seek ? the Arcadians,

And the lands ennobled by thy mighty deeds?

Here fell the serpent dire, here monstrous birds,

Here fell the bloody king; and here, subdued

By thy righl hand, the lion, who in heaven

Is given a place, whilst thou in earth remain'st. 1815

If earth is grateful, then let every race

Defend Alcmena for thy sake. Shall I

To Thracian peoples go, to Hebrus' tribes?

For this land, too, was by thy mighty works

Defended. Low the bloody stables lie,

And low the kingdom; peace was granted it, 1X20

What time the cruel king was overthrown.

What land, indeed, lias not gained peace through thee?

Where shall I seek for thee a sepulcher,

Unhappy, aged woman thai I am ?

Let all the world contend for these remains

Collected from the pyre of HercuL

What race, what temples, or what nations ask

For them ? Who asks to have Alcmena's load ? 1825

What sepulcher, ( > son, what tomb for thee

1- great enough ? Naught save the world itself;

a8o The Tragedies of Seneca

And lasting fame shall be thine epitaph.
But why, O soul of mine, art thou in fear?

Thou hast the ashes of thy Hercules.

Embrace his bones, and they will give thee help,

Will be thy sure defense. For e'en the shade 1830

Of great Alcides will make kings afraid.
Philoctclrs: O mother of illustrious Hercules,

Restrain the tears thou deemest due thy son;

For neither grieving tears nor mournful prayers

Should follow him who by his noble worth

; Has forced his way to heaven in spite of fate.

Alcides' deathless valor checks your tears. 1835

Alcmrna: Why should I bate my grief ? For I have lost

My savior,1 yea, the savior of the land

And sea,2 and wheresoe'er the shining day

From his resplendent car, in east or west,

Looks down upon the earth. How many sons

In him, O wretched mother, have I lost! 1840

Without a kingdom, I could kingdoms give.

I only, 'midst all mothers of the earth,

Had never need of prayer; naught from the gods

I asked, while Hercules remained alive;

For what could his devotion not bestow ?

WTiat god in heaven could e'er deny me aught ? 1845

In my own hands was answer of my prayer;

For what great Jove denied, Alcides gave.

WTiat mortal mother e'er bore such a son ?

A mother once with grief was turned to stone,

When, 'midst her brood of fourteen children slain,

She stood, one mother, and bewailed them all. 1850

To many families like hers my son

Could be compared. Till now for mother's grief

A measure vast enough could not be found;

But now will I, Alcmena, furnish it.

Then cease, ye mothers, though persistent grief

Till now has bidden you weep; though heavy woe 1855

Has turned your hearts to stone; and yield you all

Unto my woes.

1 Reading, vindicem amisi. * Reading, lerrae atque pelagi.

Hercules Oetaeus 281

Then come, ye wretched hands,
And beat this age*d breast. But can it be
That thou alone canst for so great a loss

Lament, so old and worn, which' all the world [860

Will presently attempt? Yet raise thy arms,
However weary, to their mournful task.
And to thy wailing summon all the earth,
And so excite the envy of the gods.
[Here follows Alcmena's formal song of mourning, accompanied by the
usual Oriental gestures of grief.}

Bewail Alcmena's son, the seed

Of Jove, for whose conception, long, 1865

Day perished and the lingering dawn

Combined two nights in one. But now

A greater than the day is dead.

Ye nations, join in common grief,

Whose cruel lords he bade descend

To Stygian realms, and lay aside 1870

Their red swords reeking with the blood

Of subject peoples. With your tears

Repay his services; let earth,

The whole round earth, with woe resound.

Let sea-girt Crete bewail him, Crete,

The Thunderer's beloved land; 1875

Beat, beat your breasts, ye hundred tribes;

Ye Cretans, Corybantes, now

Clash Ida's cymbals; for 'tis meet

To mourn him thus. Now, now lament

His funeral; for low he lies, 1880

A mate, O Crete, for Jove himself.

Bewail the death of Hercules,

Ye sons of Arcady, whose race

Is older than Diana's birth.

Let your cries from high Parthenius

And Nemea's halls resound afar; 1885

Let Maenala re-echo loud

Your sounds of woe. The bristly boar

Within your borders overthrown

■ Reading, quod.

28a The Tragedies of Seneca

Demands lament for Hercules;

And the monster of Stympnalus' pool,

Whose spreading wings shut out the day,

By greal Ah ides' arrows slain. 1890

Weep thou, Cleonae, weep and wail

For him; for once the lion huge

Which held your walls in terror, he,

By his strong hand, o'ercame and slew.

Y^e Thracian matrons, beat your breasts,

And let cold Hebrus resound to your beating. 1895

Lament for Alcides: no longer your children

Are born for the stables; no longer your vitals

Wild horses devour. O ye African lands,

From Antaeus delivered, ye regions of Spain

From Geryon saved, come, weep for your hero. 1900

Yea, all ye wretched nations, weep

With me and smite your breasts in woe,

And let your blows be heard afar,

By eastern and by western shores.

Ye dwellers in the whirling sky,

Ye gods above, do ye, too, weep

The fate of Hercules; for he 1905

J Your heavens upon his shoulders bore,

When Atlas, who was wont to bear
■ The spangled skies, was eased awhile

Of his vast load. Where now, O Jove,
' Is the promised palace of the sky, 19 10

Those heavenly heights ? Alcides dies

And is entombed — the common lot.

How often has he spared for thee

The deadly thunderbolt of wrath !

How seldom wast thou forced to hurl

Thy fires ! But hurl 'gainst me at least

One shaft, and think me Semele. 19 15

And now, O son, hast thou obtained

The fields Elysian, the shore

To which the voice of nature calls

All nations ? Or has gloomy Styx

Hemmed in thy way in vengeful wrath

Hercules Oetaeus 283

Because of stolen Cerberus,

And in the outer court of Dis 1920

Do jealous fates detain thee still ?

Oh, what a rout among the shades

And frightened manes must there be !

Does Charon flee in his ghostly skiff?

With flying hoofs do the Centaurs rush 1925

Through the wandering shades ? Does the hydra seek

In fear to plunge his snaky heads

'Neath the murky waves? Do all thy tasks

Hold thee in fear ?

Ah me! Ah me!

What foolish, raving madness this!

I am mistaken quite. I know 1930

The shades and manes fear thee not;
( For neither does the tawny skin

Stripped from the fierce Argolic beast

Protect thy left with its streaming mane,

Nor do its savage teeth surround 1935

Thy head. Thy quiver with its darts

Thou hast given away, and a weaker hand

Will aim thy bow. Alas, my son,

Unarmed through the shades thou tak'st thy way;

And with the shades shalt thou dwell for aye.
The Voice of Hercules [sounding from heaven]: Why, since I hold the 1940
starry realms of sky,
And have at last attained a heavenly seat,
Dost thou by wailing bid me feel again
Mortality ? Give o'er, since valor now
Has made for me a passage to the gods.
Alcmena [bewildered]: Whence fall upon my startled ears

These sounds ? Whence come these thunder tones

That bid me check my tears ? Ah, now 1945

I know that chaos is o'ercome.

From Styx art thou once more returned,

O son ? And hast thou once again

Vanquished the grizzly power of death ?

Hast thou escaped the grim abode

Of death once more, the gloomy pools

-s4 The Tragedies of Seneca

Where sailed ihe dark infernal skiff? 1950

^ Does Acheron's wan stream allow-
To thee alone a backward way?

Ami after death has greedy fate

No hold upon thy dauntless soul ?

Perchance thy way to hell was barred

By Pluto's self, who trembled sore

For his own realm ? Upon the pyre 1955

Of blazing woods I saw thee lie;

While to the stars the raging flames

Shot up. Thou wast indeed consumed.

Then why does not the far abode

Of death retain thy spirit still ? i960

What part of thee do trembling manes fear ?
Is e'en thy shade too terrible for Dis ?
Hercules [his form now taking shape in the air above]: The pools of
grim Cocytus hold me not,
Nor has the dusky skiff contained my ghost.
Then cease thy mourning, mother; once for all
Have I beheld the manes and the shades. 1965

The mortal part of me, the part thou gav'st,
Was by the overmastering flames consumed;
Thy part to fire, my father's part to heaven
Has been consigned. Then cease thy loud laments,
Which it were fitting to a worthless son

To give. To inglorious souls such grief is due; 1970

For courage heavenward tends; base fear, to death.
Hear now, as from the stars I prophesy:
Soon shall the bloody king, Eurystheus, pay
Fit penalty to thee for all his deeds;
For over his proud head shalt thou be borne
In thy triumphant car. But now 'tis meet
That I return to the celestial realms; 1975

Alcides once again has conquered hell.
[He vanishes jrom sight.]
Alcmena: Stay but a little — ah, from my fond eyes
He has departed, gone again to heaven.
Am I deceived, and do my eyes but dream
They saw my son ? My soul for very grief

Hercules Oetaeus 285

Is faithless still. Not so, thou art a god, 1980

And holdest even now the immortal skies.
I trust thy triumph still. But quickly now
Unto the realm of Thebes will I repair,
And proudly tell thy new-made godhead there.

[Exit.]
Chorus: Never is glorious manhood borne

To Stygian shades. The brave live on,

Nor over Lethe's silent stream 1985

Shall they by cruel fate be drawn.

But when life's days are all consumed,

And comes the final hour, for them

A pathway to the gods is spread

By glory.

Be thou with us yet,

O mighty conqueror of beasts, 1990

Subduer of the world. Oh, still

Have thought unto this earth of ours.

And if some strange, new monster come

And fill the nations with his dread,

Do thou with forked lightnings crush

The beast; yea, hurl thy thunderbolts 1995

More mightily than Jove himself.

THYESTES

THYESTES

DRAMATIS PERSONAE
Thyestes . Brother of Atreus, in exile from his fatherland.
The Ghost oj Tantalus. Doomed for his sins to come back to earth and

inspire his house to greater sin.
The Fury . .Who drives the ghost on to do his allotted part.
Atreus . . .King of Argos, grandson of Tantalus, who has quarreled

with his brother and driven him into exile.

An Attendant oj Atreus.

Three sons oj Thyestes: Only one of whom, Tantalus, takes part in the
dialogue.

A Messenger.

Chorus . . Citizens of Mycenae.

The scene is laid partly without the city of Argos, and partly within
the royal palace.

Pclops, the son of Tantalus, had banished his sons for the murder of
their half-brother, Crysippus, with a curse upon them, that they and their
posterity might perish by each others1 hands. Upon the death of Pelops,
Atreus rtturned and took possession of his father's throne. Thyestes, also,
claimed the throne, and sought to gain it by the foulest means. For he seduced
his brother's wife, A'erope, and stole by her assistance the magical, gold-fleeced
ram from Atreus' flocks, upon the possession of which the right to rule was
said to rest. For this act he was banished by the king.

But Atreus has long been meditating a more complete revenge upon his
brother; and now in pretended friendship has recalled him from banishment,
offering him a place beside himself upon the throne, that thus he may have
Thyestes entirely in his power.

ACT I

The Ghost oj Tantalus: Who from th' accursdd regions of the dead,

Hath haled me forth, where greedily I strive

To snatch the food that ever doth escape

My hungry lips? Who now to Tantalus

Doth show those heavenly seats which once before

I saw to my undoing ? Can it be

That some more fearful suffering than thirst

In sight of water, worse that* gaping want, 5

Hath been devised ? Must I the slippery stone

Of Sisyphus upon my shoulders bear?

Must I be stretched upon the whirling wheel,

Or suffer Tityus' pangs, who, lying prone

Within a huge recess, the grewsome birds 10

Doth with his quivering, torn-out vitals feed ?

By night renewing what the day hath lost,

He lies, an undiminished feast for all.

For what new evil am I now reserved ?

O thou grim judge of shades, who'er thou art

Who to the dead doth mete new punishments!

If thou canst still some suffering devise 15

Whereat grim Cerberus himself would quake,
j And gloomy Acheron be seized with fear,

At whose dread sight e'en I would tremble sore:/

Seek such a punishment; for from my seed ^

Is sprung a race which shall their house outvie 20

In sin, shall make me innocent appear,

And dare to do what I have never darcdil

Whatever space within the impious realms

Remains unoccupied, my house shall fill.

While lives the race of Pelops on the earth,

No rest shall Minos know.
The Fury: Thou cursed shade,

\ Be gone, and to the verge of mailing drive

Thine impious house. Be drawn the deadly sword 25

To every crime upraised, by every hand;

291

292

Thk Tragedies of Seneca

Of angry passions Let there be no end,

Xo shame of strife; let blinded fury's Sting

Prick on their souls; Beared by the breath of rage

May parents' hearts grow hard, and endless crime
To childrens' children drag its impious trail.
Mo time be given to hate their former crimes; 30

But let the new in quick succession rise,
Not one alone in each; and may their crimes,
E'en while they suffer punishment, increase.
Let the throne fall from the haughty brothers' grasp,
And call them back from exiled wanderings.
JLet the tottering fortune of this bloody house,
Amid its changing kings in ruins fall.

Bring him of high estate to wretchedness, 35

The wretched raise; and let the kingdom toss
Upon the seething tide of circumstance.
By crime driven out, when God shall bring them home,
May they return but to still other crimes,
And by all men as by themselves be loathed.
Let nothing be which wrath deems unallowed:

ILet brother brother fear, and parent child; 40

Let son fear father; let the children die
An evil death — by doubly evil birth
Be born. Let wives against their husbands lift
Their murderous hands. Let wars pass over seas,
And every land be drenched with streams of blood.
Triumphant o'er the mighty kings of earth,
Let Lust exult; and in thy sinful house, 45

Let vile, incestuous deeds seem trivial.
Let justice, faith, fraternal amity
Be trampled underfoot; and of our sins
Let not the heavens themselves escape the taint.
Why gleam the constellations in the sky,

And flash their wonted glories to the world ? 50

Be pitchy black the night, and let the day
Fall fainting from the heavens and be no more.
Embroil thy household gods, rouse murderous hate,
1 And all the palace fill with Tantalus.
Adorn the lofty columns; let the door's,

T n y e s t e s 293

With verdant laural decked, proclaim their joy;
Let torches gleam in celebration meet 55

Of thy return — then let the Thracian crime
Be done again, but triply hideous.
Why stays the uncle's hand in idleness ?
Not yet Thyestes weeps his murdered sons.
When will he act ? The kettles o'er the fires
Should even now be boiling, severed limbs 60

iBe broken up, the father's hearth be stained
With children's blood, the festal tables spread.
But at no untried carnival of crime
Wilt thou sit down as guest. This day be free,
And sate thy hunger at that festal board;
Go eat thy fill, and drink the blood and wine 65

Commingled in thy sight. A banquet this,
Which thou thyself wouldst look in horror on. —
But stay thee. Whither dost thou rush away ?
Tantalus: Back to my pools and streams and ebbing waves,
Back to that tree whose ever-mocking fruit
Eludes my lips. Oh, let me seek again

The gloomy couch of my old prison -house; 70

And if too little wretched I appear,
Bid me my river change. Within thy stream,
O Phlegethon, hemmed round with waves of fire,
Let me be left to suffer.

Ye, whoe'er
By fate's decrees are doomed to punishment,
Whoe'er thou art who 'neath the hollowed cave 75

) Dost lie, in constant fear lest even now
The cavern's mass shall fall upon thy head;
Whoever fears the gaping, greedy jaws
Of lions, and in helpless horror looks
Upon the advancing furies' cruel lines;
Whoe'er, half burned, their threat'ning lurches slums:
Oh, listen to the voice of Tantalus 80

Fast speeding to your realm; believe the words
Of one who knows, and love your punishment.
But now — Oh, when shall it be mine to flee
This upper world ?

204 The Tragedies of Seneca

The Fury: First musl thou plunge thy house

In dirt disorders, stir up deadly finds,

Wake the kini^s to evil lust for blood,

And rouse to wild amaze their maddened hearts. 85

Tantalus: "I'is fit that 1 should Buffer, not bestow,

The punishment. Hut thou wouldst have me go,
\ Like deadly vapor from the riven earth,

I )i like the plague amongsl the people spread,

And lead my grandsons into crime most foul.

0 mighty sire of gods, my sire as well, 90
Although 'tis shame to thee to own me son,

Though cruel tortures seize my tattling tongue,

1 will not hold my peace:

[He cries aloud as to his family.]
I warn ye all,
Siain not your kindred hands with sacred blood,
And with no madman's gifts pollute the shrines.
Lo, here I stand, and shall avert the deed. 95

[To the Fury.]
Why dost thou fright me with thy brandished scourge,
And shake thy writhing serpents in my face ?
Why in mine inmost marrow dost thou rouse
These gnawing hunger pangs? My very heart
Is parched with burning thirst, and leaping flames
Dart scorching through my vitals — Oh, desist;
I yield me to thy will. 100

The Fury: Then fix this thirst,

(This maddening thirst in all thy kindred here;
So, e'en as thou, may they be driven on
To quench their thirst each in the others' blood.
But lo, thy house perceives thy near approach,
And shrinks in horror from thy loathsome touch.
But now enough. Do thou go back again 105

To thine infernal caves and 'customed stream;
For here the sad earth groans beneath thy feet.
Dost thou not see how, driven far within,
The waters flee their springs ? how river banks
Are empty, and the fiery wind drives on
The scattered clouds ? The trees grow sickly pale,

T H Y E S T E S 295

Their branches hang denuded of their fruits; no

And where but late the Isthmus echoed back
The loud resounding waters near at hand,
Their neighboring waves by but a narrow span
Dividing, now have all the waves withdrawn
Far seaward, and their voice is faintly heard
Upon the shore. Now Lerna backward shrinks, 115

The streams of Inachus have hidden away,
The sacred Alpheus sends his waters forth
No longer, and Cithaeron lifts no more
Its hoary head, for all its snows are gone;
While they who dwell in noble Argos fear
Their ancient thirst again. E'en Titan's self
fStands doubtful whether he shall bid his steeds 120

Run their accustomed course and bring the day,
Foredoomed by thee to perish on the way.
[They vanish.]

Chorus: If any god for Argos cares,

And Pisa's realm for chariots famed;

If any loves the Isthmian state

Of Corinth, with its double ports,

And two opposing seas; 125

If any joys in the far-seen snows

Of Mount Taygetus, which lie

Heaped on his loftiest peaks what time

The wintry blasts of Boreas blow,
,But which the summer melts again
) When breathe the soft Etesian winds,

Sail filling; if the Alpheus bright

With its cool, clear stream moves any god, 130

Far famed for its Olympic course —

Let him his peaceful godhead turn

To our affairs; let him avert

This dread inheritance of crime;

Forbid that in his grandsire's steps

The grandson follow, worse than he;

And let not worse monstrosities

Please generations yet to be. 135

296 The Tragedies of Seneca

( >li. may at last the impious rati'
Of thirsty Tantalus give "Vi-
lli utter weariness its lust
For savage deeds. Enough of sin I
No longer does the right prevail,
And wrong is general: Behold,
As Mynilus his l<>r<l betrayed,

He, too, was treacherously slain; 140

For by that selfsame broken faith
Which he had shown, himself o'ercomc,1
He fell into the sea and changed
Its name for his. Amidst the ships
That sail the Ionian sea, no tale
Is better known.

See now, while runs the little son

To meet his father's kiss, he falls 145

By that accursed sword transfixed,
Untimely victim at thy hearth,
And carved, O Tantalus, by thee,
That so thou mightest grace the board
Of friendly gods. That impious feast
Eternal hunger, endless thirst

Rewarded; penalty more fit 150

For such a crime could not be found.
See where, with gaping throat, forespent,
Stands Tantalus; above his head
Hang many luscious fruits; but, swift
As Phineus' birds, they flee his grasp;
On every side the tree droops low,

With heavy-laden boughs, o'erweighed 155

By its own fruit, and mockingly
Sways to his straining lips. Yet he,
Though with impatient longing filled,
As often mocked, so often fails
To grasp the prize; he turns away

His longing gaze, strains close his lips, 160

And grimly bars his hunger fast
Behind his teeth. But still again

1 Reading, rectus.

Thyestes 297

The whole grove lets its riches down,

And flaunts them in his face, soft fruits

On drooping boughs, and whets once more

His hunger, bidding stretch again 165

His hands — but all in vain. For now,

When it has lured him on to hope,

And mocked its fill, the boughs recede,

And the whole ripe harvest of the wood

Is snatched far out of reach.

Then comes a raging thirst more fierce

Than hunger, which inflames his blood, 170

And with its parching fires burns up

Its moisture. There the poor wretch stands,

Striving to quaff the nearby waves;

But the fleeing waters whirl away,

And leave but the empty bed to him

Who seeks to follow. Quick he quaffs

At that swift stream, but to drink — the dust. 175

ACT II

}.\trcus [in soliloquy]: O soul, so sluggish, spiritless, and weak,
j\nd (what in kings I deem the last reproach)
] Still unavenged, after so many crimes,
.Thy brother's treacheries, and every law
\ Of nature set at naught, canst vent thy wrath
In vain and meaningless complaints? By now
The whole wide world should be astir with arms, 180

Thy arms, and on both seas thy ships of war
Should swarm; the fields and towns should be ablaze,
And gleaming swords should everywhere be seen.
Beneath our charging squadrons' thundering tread
Let Greece resound; let this my enemy

Within no forest's depths a hiding find. 185

No citadel upon the mountain heights
Shall shelter him. Let all the citizens,
Mycenae leaving, sound the trump of war.
Whoe'er grants refuge to that curseVl head.
(Shall die a dreadful death. This noble pile,
The home of our illustrious Pelops' line, 190

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Tiie Tragedies of Seneca

I would might fall on me, if only thus

It might destroy my hated brother too.

" But conic, my soul, do what no coming age .

Shall e'er approve — or e'er forget ; sonic deed /

Must be attempted, impious, bloody, dire^

Such as my brother's self rnight claim as his.

No crimejjj ■■) vended save by a greater crime. 195

"But where the crime that can surpass hisTTeeds?

Is he yet crushed in spirit ? Does he show

In prosperous circumstances self-control,

Contentment in defeat ? Full well I know

His tameless spirit; it can ne'er be bent —

But can be broken. Then, before his force 200

He strengthens and opposing powers prepares,

We must the attack begin, lest, while we wait,

He strike us unprepared. For well I know

That he must either slay me or be slain

By me There lies the crime between us two:

Who leaps to grasp it first, the crime shall do.
Attendant: But does the evil fame of such a deed

Deter you not ?
Atreus: The greatest blessing this

Of royal power, that men are forced to praise ' 205

Their monarchs' deeds as well as- bear them.
Attendant: Yea,

But they whose praise is forced by fear become
\&y that same fear in turn the bitterest foes.

But he who seeks the people's heartfelt praise,

Will wish their hearts and not their tongues to speak. 210

Atreus: True praise may often fall to humble men,

But false alone to kings. Let subjects learn

To want what they would not.
Attendant: Let monarchs learn

To choose the right; then all will choose the same.
Atreus: When kings are forced to choose the right alone,

Their rule is insecure.
Attendant: Where is no shame,

No thought of righteousness, no piety, 215

No faith, no purity, Oh, then indeed

T II Y E S T E S 299

That rule is insecure.

Atrciis: But purity,

Faith, piety, are private virtues all;
With kings, their will is law.

Attendant: Oh, count it wrong

To harm thy brother, though he basest be.

Atreus: Whatever may not lawfully be done 220

To brothers, may with perfect right be done
To him. What is there left me now unstained
By crime of his ? Where has he failed to sin ?
My wife has he debauched, my kingdom stolen,
The ancient emblem of our dynasty
By fraud obtained, and all our royal house
By that same fraud in dire confusion plunged.
There is a flock within our royal stalls, 225

Rich fleeced and nobly bred, and with the flock
A ram, their leader, wondrous, magical;
For from his body thickly hangs a fleece
Of fine-spun gold, with which the new-crowned kings
Of Pelops' line are wont t' adom their scepters.
Who owns the ram is king, for with his fate 230

The fortunes of our noble house are linked.
This sacred ram in safety feeds apart
Within a mead whose fateful bounds are fenced
By stony walls, and kept with gate of stone.
Him, greatly daring, did my brother steal,
Perfidious, with my wife in secret league 235

Of crime. And this has been the fountain spring
Of all my woes; throughout my kingdom's length
Have I a trembling exile wandered long,
And found no place of safety from his snares;
My wife has he defiled, my subjects' faith
And loyalty destroyed, my house o'erthrown,
All ties of kinship broken, and nothing left 240

Of which I may be sure save only this —
My brother's enmity. Why do I stand
In stupid inactivity? At length
Bestir thyself, and gird thy courage up.
Think thou on Pelops and on Tantalus;

300 The Tragedies of Seneca

Such deeds as theirs must by my hands be done.
.; [To Attendant.]

) Tell thou mc then how vengeance may be won.
Attendant: Drive out his hostile spirit with the Bword. 245

Atreus: Thou speakest of the end of punishment.
But 1 the punishment itself desire. *

Lej easy-going rulers slay their foes: /

In_my domain death is a longed-for lxion. "*
Attendant: Do pious motives stir thee not at all"?
Atreus: Away, O Piety, if ever thou

Didst dwell within my house, and in thy stead

Let come dire furies' cohorts, fiends at war, 250

Megaera holding high in either hand

Her flaming torch; for with a mighty rage

'Tis not enough my heart should lie inflamed:')

I fain WQiild he hy gre.nter horrors filled

Attendant: What new design does thy mad soul conceive?

Atreus: [No deed within the accustomed bounds of grief. 255

I'll leave no crime undone; and vet no crime.

Is bad enough for me.
Attendant: Wilt use the sword ?

Atreus: 'Tis not enough.
Attendant: The flames?

Atreus: Still not enough.

Attendant: What weapon then will thy mad passion use?
Atreus: Thyestes' self.

Attendant: Far worse than madness this.

Atreus: I do confess it. Deep within my heart, 260

A fearful tumult rages unrestrained,

And I am hurried on, I know not where;

I only know that I am hurried on.

From lowest depths a moaning sound is heard,

And thunders rumble in the cloudless skies;

A crashing noise resounds throughout the house

As though 'twere rent in twain; upon my hearth
| The frightened Lares turn their gaze from me. 265

Yet this shall be, this awful thing shall be,

lYe gods, which ye do fear to think upon.
Attendant: What then is this which thou dost meditate ?

Thyestes

,OI

Atreus:

i

Some greater,evil lurks within my soul,

And, monstrous, swells beyond all human bounds,

My sluggish hands impelling to the deed.

I know not what it is; but this I know,

That 'tis some monstrous deed. So let it be. 270

] Haste thee and do this deed, O soul of mine!

'Tis worthy of Thyestes — and of me.

Let both perform it then. The Odrysian house

Was wont to look on feasts unspeakable —

A monstrous thing, 'tis true, but long ago

Performed. This grief of mine some greater sin 275

Must find to feed upon. Do thou inspire

My heart, O Daulian Procne, who didst know

A mother's and a sister's feelings too.

Our cause is similar. Assist thou then,
i And nerve my hand to act. Let once again

A sire with joyous greed his children rend,

And hungrily devour their flesh. 'Tis good,

'Tis quite enough. This mode of punishment

So far doth please me well. But where is he? 280

Why do the hands of Atreus rest so long

Inactive ? Even now before mine eyes
vThe perfect image of the slaughter comes;
,1 seem to see the murdered children heaped

Before their father's face. O timid (soul,

Why dost thou fear ? Why droops thy courage now

Before the deed is done ? Then up, and dare.
'Of this mad crime the most revolting part 285

Thyestes' self shall do.

But by what wiles

Shall we unto our snares entice his ft

For he doth count us all his enemies.

He never could be taken, were his will

Not bent on taking too. E'en now he hopes

To take my kingdom from me. In this hope,

He'll rush against the bolts of threat'ning Jove; 290

This hope will make him brave the whirlpools' wrath,

And sail within the treacherous Libyan .shoals;

On this hope stayed, the greatest ill of all

Attendant

Atreus:

T H B T R A G E D IKS OF S B N E C A

Will be have strength to bear the sight of me.
Attendant: But who will give him confidence in peace?

To whom will he such weighty credence give? 295

Atrnis: His wicked hope is ready to believe.

\Yt shall my sons this message bear from me:

\ a let tin- wretched exile roam no more.

But leave his homeless state for royal halls,

And rule at Argos, sharer of my throne.

But if Thyestes harshly spurn my prayer,

His guileless children, overspent with woes 300

And easily beguiled, will bend his will

Unto their prayers. His ancient thirst for power,

Together with his present poverty,

And harsh demands of toil will move the man,

However stubborn, by their weight of woes.
Attendant: But time by nowr has made his troubles light. 305

A In ns: Nay; sense of wrong increases day by day.

'Tis easy to bear hardship for a time;

But to endure it long, an irksome task.
Attendant: Choose other servants of thy grim design.
Atrcus: Young men lend ready ear to base commands.
Attendant: Beware, lest what against their uncle now 310

Thou teachest them, they turn against their sire

In time to come. Full oft do crimes recoil
\ Upon the man who instigated them.
Alreus: Though none should teach them fraud and ways of crime,

The throne itself would teach them. Dost thxaiicar—

Lest they grow eyjl ? Evil were they_.bomr«

What thoudost savage, cruel call in me,

Dost deem impossible and impious, 315

Perchance my brother even now doth plot

Against myself.
Attendant: Shall then thy children know

What crime they do ?
Atreus: Not so, for youthful years

Cannot keep silent faith. They might perchance

Betray the trick. The art of secrecy

Is mastered only by the ills of life.
Attendant: And wilt thou then deceive the very ones 320

Thyestes 303

Through whom thou plann'st another to deceive?
Atreus: That so they may themselves be free from guilt.
For what the need of implicating them
In crimes of mine? Nay, through my acts alone

Mvhate shall work its ends. But hold, myisoul,
/Thou doest ill, thou shrinkest from the task.
If thou dost spare thine own, thou sparest his 325

As well. So then let Agamemnon be
The conscious minister of my designs.
And wittingly let Menelaus help
His father's plans. And by this test of crime,
Let their uncertain birth be put to proof:
If they refuse to wage this deadly war,
And will not serve my hatred; if they plead
He is their uncle — then is he their sire.
n So let them go. Bytjio ! a look of fear 330

Has oft revealed the heart. And weighty plans,
E'en 'gainst the stoutest will, betray themselves.
They shall not know of how great consequence
Their mission is.

[To Attendant.]
And do thou hide it loo.
Attendant: No warning do I need, for in my breast
\lt shall be hid by fear and loyalty.
But more shall loyalty prevail with me. 335

Chorus: At last our royal family,

The race of ancient Inachus,
Hath quelled the brothers' deadly strife
What fatal madness drives you on

To shed by turns each other's blood, 340

And gain the throne through paths of crime?
' » ye who lust for regal state,
Ye know not where true power is found;
Py^ ' For riches cannot make a king,

Nor Tyrian garments richly dyed, 345

Nor royal crowns upon the brow,
Xor portals glittering with gold.
But he is king who knows no fear,

3°4

The Tragedies of Seneca

/.

(Whose heart is free from mad desires;

Whom vain ambition moveth Dot,

Nor fickle favor of the mob.

The bidden treasures of the west

Move not bis heart, nor sands of gold

Which Tagus' waters sweep along

Within their shining bed;

Nor yet the garnered wealth i>f grain

Trod out on Libyan threshing-floors.

lie fears no hurtling thunderbolt

In zig-zag course athwart the sky;

No Eurus ruffling up the sea,

Nor the heaving Adriatic's waves,

Windswept and mad before the blast;

No hostile spear, nor keen, bare sword

Can master him; but, set on high,

In calm serenity he sees

\A11 things of earth beneath his feet.

And so with joy he goes to meet

1 lis fate, and welcomes death.

In vain 'gainst him would kings contend,

Though from all lands they congregate —

They who the scattered Dacians lead;

Who dwell upon the red sea'b marge

Whose depths are set with gleaming pearls;

Or who, secure on Caspian heights,

Leave all unclosed their mountain ways

Against the bold Sarmatians;

They who through Danube's swelling waves

Dare make their way with fearless feet,

And, wheresoe'er they dwell, despoil

The famed and far-off Serians:

/- In vain all these, for 'tis the soul
That makes the king. He needs no arms,
iNo steeds, no ineffectual darts
/ Such as the Parthian hurls from far
\ In simulated flight; for him
No engines huge with far-hurled rocks
\Lay waste the hostile city's walls.

35°

355

360

365

37o

375

380

385

Thyestes 305

But he is king who knows no fear,
j And he is king who has no lust;
And on his throne secure he sits

vVho is self-crowned by conscious worth. 390

Let him who will, in pride of power,
Upon the brink of empire stand:
For me, be sweet repose enough ;
In liumble station fixed, would I

My life in gentle leisure spend, 395

In silence, all unknown to fame.
So when my days have passed away
From noisy, restless tumult free,

[May I, in meek obscurity 400

And full of years, decline in death.
But death lies heavily on him
Who, though to all the world well known,
Is stranger to himself alone.

ACT III

[Enter Thyestes returning from banishment, accompanied by his three

sons.)
Thyestes: At last do I behold the welcome roofs

Of this my fatherland, the teeming wealth

Of Argos, and, the greatest and the best

Of sights to weary exiles, here I see 405

My native soil and my ancestral gods

(If gods indeed there be). And there, behold,

The sacred towers by hands of Cyclops reared,

In beauty far excelling human art;

The race-course thronged with youth, where oftentimes

Have I within my father's chariot

Sped on to victory and fair renown. 410

Now will all Argos come to welcome me;

The thronging folk will come — and Atreus too!

Oh, better far reseek thy wooded haunts,

[Thy glades remote, and, mingled with the brui

Live e'en as they. Why should this splendid realm

With its fair-seeming glitter blind my eyes? 415

When thou dost look upon the goodly gift,

',o6

Tim Tragedies of Seneca

425

Seas will the giver too. Of late I lived
With bold and joyous spirit, though my lot
All men considered hard to bear. Hut now
My heart is filled with fears, my courage fails;
And, bent on Bight, my feet unwilling move. 420

Tantalus [one oj Thyestes' sons]: Why, () my father, dost thou falter so

With Steps Uncertain, turn away thy fail',

And hold thyself as on a doubtful Course?
Thyestes [in soliloquy]: Why hesitate, nly soul, or why so long

Deliberate ujxm a point so clear?

To such uncertain things dost thou intrust
^Thyself as throne and brother? And fearest thou

Those ills already conquered and found mild ?

Dost flee those cares which thou hast well bestowed ?

Oh, now my former wretchedness is joy.

Turn back, while still thou mayst, and save thyself
Tantalus: What cause, O father, forces thee to leave

Thy native land at last regained ? Why now,

When richest gifts are falling in thy lap,

Dost turn away ? Thy brother's wrrath is o'er;

And he has turned himself once more to thee,

Has given thee back thy share of sovereignty,

Restored our shattered house to harmony,

And made thee master of thyself again.
Thyestes: - Thou askest why I fear — I cannot tell.
^_No cause for fear I see. but still I fear.

43°

435

I long to go, and yet my trembling limbs
Go on with faltering steps, and I am borne
WTiere I most stoutly struggle not to go.
So, wdien a ship by oar and sail is driven,
The tide, resisting both, bears it away.

Tantalus: But thou must overcome whate'er it be

That doth oppose and hold thy soul in check;
And see how great rewards await thee here:
, Thou canst be king.

Thyestes: 1 Since I have power to die.

Tantalus: But royal power is —

Thyestes: Naught, if only thou

No power dost covet.

440

T H Y E S T E S

307

A

e

Tantalus: Leave it to thy sons.

Thyestes: No realm on earth can stand divided power.

Tantalus: Should he, who can be happy, still be sad ?

Thyestes: Believe me, son, 'tis by their lying names

.That things seem great, while others harsh appear
Which are not truly so. When high in power
jl stood, I never ceased to be in fear;
i Yea, even did I fear the very sword
Upon my thigh. Oh, what a boon it is
To be at feud with none, to eat one's bread
Without a trace of care, upon the ground !
Crime enters not the poor man's humble cot;
And all in safety may one take his food
From slender boards; for 'tis in cups_of_gold
Thatjjoison lurks — I speak what I do know.
Ill fortune is to be preferred to good.
For since my palace does not threatening stand
In pride upon some loftyjnountain top,
The people fear me not; my lowering roofs
Gleam not with ivory, nor do I need
A watchful guard to keep me while I sleejx
I do not fish with fleets, nor drive the sea
With massive dykes back from its natural shore;
I do not gorge me at the world's expense;
For me no fields remote are harvested
Beyond the Getae and the Parthians;
No incense burns for me, nor are my shrines
Adomed in impious neglect of Jove;
No forests wave upon my battlements,
No vast pools steam for my delight; my days
Are not to slumber given, nor do I spend
The livelong night in drunken revelry.
No one feels fear of me, and so my home,
Though all unguarded, is from danger free;
For poverty alone may be at peace.
And this I hold: the mightiest king is he,|
Who from the lust of sovereignty is free. •

Tantalus: But if some god a kingdom should bestow,
It is not meet for mortal to refuse:

445

45°

455

460

465

470

308 The Tragedies of Seneca

Behold, thy brother bids thee to the throne.
Thyestes: He bids? 'Tis but a cloak for treachery.
ikUus: Bui brotherly regard ofttimes returns

Onto the heart from which it has been driven;

And righteous love regains its former strength. 475

Thyestes: And dost thou speak of brother's love to me?

Sooner shall ocean bathe the heavenly Bears,!

The raging waves of Sicily be still;

And sooner shall the Ionian waters yield v" ji

Ripe fields of grain; black night illume the earth; „r

And fire shall mate with water, life with death, 480

And winds shall make a treaty with the sea:

Than shall Thyestes know a brother's love.
Tantalus: What treachery dost thou fear?
Thyestes: All treachery.

What proper limit shall I give my fear ?

My brother's power is boundless as his hate.
Tantalus: How can he harm thee ?
Thyestes: For myself alone 485

I have no fears; but 'tis for you, my sons,

That Atreus must be held in fear by me.
Tantalus: But canst thou be o'ercome, if on thy guard ?
Thyestes: Too late one guards when in the midst of ills.

But let us on. In this one thing I show

My fatherhood: I do not lead to ill,

But follow you.
Tantalus: If well we heed our ways,

God will protect us. Come with courage on. 490

Atreus [coming upon the scene, sees Thyestes and his three sons, and
gloats over the fact that his brother is at last in his power.
He speaks aside]: Now is the prey fast caught within
my toils.

I see the father and his hated brood,
I And here my vengeful hate is safe bestowed;

For now at last he's come into my hands;
.He's come, Thyestes and his children — all! 495

When I see him I scarce can curb my grief,

And keep my soul from breaking madly forth.

So when the Umbrian hound pursues the prey,

Thyestes

309

Keen scented, on the long leash held, he goes
With lowered muzzle questing on the trail.
While distant still the game and faint the scent,
Obedient to the hash, with silent tongue
He goes along; but when the prey is near,
With straining neck he struggles to be free,
Bays loud against the cautious hunter's check,
And bursts from all restraint.

When, near at hand,
) Hot wrath perceives the blood for which it thirsts,
STt cannot be restrained. Yet must it be.
See how his unkempt, matted hair conceals
His woeful countenance; how foul his beard.

[He now addresses Thyestes.]
My promised faith, my brother, will I keep;
'Tis a delight to see thee once again.
Come to my arms in mutual embrace;
For all the anger which I felt for thee
Has melted clean away. From this time forth
Let ties of blood be cherished, love and faith;
And let that hatred which has cursed us both
Forever vanish from our kindred souls.

Thyestes: I should attempt to palliate my sins,

Hadst thou not shown me such fraternal love;
But now I own, my brother, now I own
That I have sinned against thee past belief.
Thy faithful piety has made my case
Seem blacker still. A double sinner he
Who sins against a brother such as thou.
Now let my tears my penitence approve.
Thou, first of all mankind, beholdest me
A suppliant; these hands, which never yel
Have touched the feet of man, are laid on thine.
Let all thy wrathful feelings be forgot,
Be utterly erased from ofi thy soul;
And take, O brother, as my pledge of faith
These guiltless sons of mine.

Atrcus: Lay not thy hands

Upon my knees. Come, rather, to my arms-

500

505

5io

515

520

310 The Tragedies of Seneca

And you, dear youths, the comforters of age,
Conn- ding about my Deck. Those rags of woe,

My brother, lay aside, and span- mine eyi

And clothe thyself more fittingly in these, 525

The equal of my own. And, last of all,

Accept thine equal share of this our realm.

'Twill bring a greater meed <>f praise to me,

To restore thee safely to thy father's throne.

For chance may put the scepter in our hands;

But only virtue seeks to give it up.
Thyestes: May heaven, my brother, worthily repay 530

These deeds of thine. But this my wretched head

Will not consent to wear a diadem,

Nor my ill-omened hand to hold the staff

>Of power. Nay, rather, let me hide myself

Among the throng.
Atrcus: There's room upon the throne.

Thyestes: But I shall know that all of thine is mine. 535

Atrcus: \ But who would throw away good fortune's gifts?
Thyestes: Whoe'er has found how easily they fail.
Atrcus: And wouldst thou thwart thy brother's great renown?
Thyestes: Thy glory is attained; mine bides its time.

My mind is resolute to shun the crown. 540

Atrcus: Then I refuse my share of power as well.
Thyestes: Nay then, I yield. The name of king I'll wear,

But laws and arms — and I, are thine to sway.
Atrcus [placing the crown on his brother's head]: I'll place this crown
upon thy reverend head,

And pay the destined victims to the gods. 545

Chorus: The sight is past belief. Behold,

(This Atreus, fierce and bold of soul,
' By every cruel passion swayed,
When first he saw his brother's face
Was held in dumb amaze.
No force is greater than the power
Of Nature's ties of love. 'Tis true

That wars ^vith foreign foes endure; 550

But they whom true love once has bound

TlIYESTES .ill

f

Will ever feel its ties.

W'lun wrath, by some great cause aroused,
Hath burst the bonds of amity,
And raised the dreadful cry of war;
When gleaming squadrons thunder down
With champing steeds; when flashing swords, 555

By carnage-maddened Mars upreared,
Gleam with a deadly rain of blows:
E'en then for sacred piety
Those warring hands will sheathe the sword
And join in the clasp of peace.

What god has given this sudden lull 560

In the midst of loud alarms ? But now
Throughout Mycenae's borders rang
The noisy prelude of a strife
'Twixt brothers' arms. Here mothers pale
Embraced their sons, and the trembling wife
Looked on her armed lord in fear,
While the sword to his hand reluctant came, 565

Foul with the rust of peace.
One strove to renew the tottering walls.
And one to strengthen the shattered towers,
And close the gates with iron bars;

While on the battlements the guard 570

His anxious nightly vigils kept.
The daily fear of war is worse
Than war itself.

But fallen now are the sword's 'lire threats,
The deep-voiced trumpel blare is still,

And the shrill, harsh notes of the clarion 575

Arc heard no more. While pea< e profound
Broods once again o'er the happy state.
So when, beneath the storm blast's lash.
The heaving waves break on the shore
Of Bruttium, and Scylla roars
Responsive from her cavern's depths;
Then, even within their sheltered port, 580

The sailors fear the foaming sea
\Tiich greedy Charybdis vomits up;

I

3 " -

T III" T R A G BDIES OF S E N E C A

And Cyclops dreads bis father's rage

Where he sits on burning Aetna's crag,

I i -i the deathless Qames on liis roaring forge

Be quenched by the overwhelming floods;

When poor Larries Feels the shock

Of reeling Ithaca, and thinks

That his island realm will be swallowed up:

Then, if the fierce winds die away,

The waves sink back in their quiet depths;

And the sea, which of late the vessels feared,

Now far and wide with swelling sails

Is overspread, while tiny skiffs

Skim safely o'er its harmless breast;

And one may count the very fish

Deep down within the peaceful caves,

Where but now, beneath the raping blast,

The battered islands feared the sea.

No lot endureth long. For grief

And pleasure, each in turn, depart;

But pleasure has a briefer reign.

From lowest to the highest state

I A fleeting hour may bring us. He,

(Who wears a crown upon his brow,
To whom the trembling nations kneel,
Before whose nod the barbarous Medes
Lay down their arms, the Indians too,
Who dwell beneath the nearer sun,
And Dacians, who the Parthian horse
Are ever threat'ning: he, the king,
With anxious mind the scepter bears,

\ Foresees and fears the fickle chance
And shifting time which soon or late

[Shall all his power overthrow.
Ye, whom the ruler of the land
And sea has given o'er subject men
The fearful power of life and death,
Abate your overweening pride.
For whatsoever fear of you
Your weaker subjects feel today,

5*5

59°

'

595

600

605

610

TnYESTES 313

Tomorrow shall a stronger lord
Inspire in you. For every power
Is subject to a greater power.
Him, whom the dawning day beholds
In proud estate, the setting sun
Sees lying in the dust.

Let no one then trust overmuch 615

To favoring fate; and when she frowns,
Let no one utterly despair
Of better fortune yet to come.
For Clotho mingles good and ill;
She whirls the wheel of fate around,
Nor suffers it to stand.
To no one are the gods so good

That he may safely call his own 620

^Tomorrow's dawn; for on the whirling wheel
Has God our fortunes placed for good or ill.

ACT IV

[Enter Messenger breathlessly announcing the horror which has just been

enacted behind the scenes.]
MessengeriOh, for some raging blast to carry me

With headlong speed through distant realms of air,
And wrap me in the darkness of the clouds;
That so I might this monstrous horror tear
\From my remembrance. Oh, thou house of shame 625

(To Pelops even and to Tantalus!
Chorus: What is the news thou bring'st?

engcr: What realm is this?

Argos and Sparta, once the noble home
Of pious brothers? Corinth, on whose shores
Two rival oceans beat ? Or do I see
The barbarous Danube on whose frozen stream
The savage Alani make swift retreat? 630

Hyrcania beneath eternal snows?
f Or those wide plains of wandering Scythians?
What place is tin's that knows such hideous crime?
Chorus: But tell thy tidings, whatsoe'er they be.
Messenger: When I my scattered senses gather up,

3 14 The Tragedies of Seneca

And horrid fear lets go its numbing bold

Upon my limits. Oil, hut I see il still,

The ghastly picture of thai dreadful deedl 635

Oh, come, ye whirlwinds wild, and bear me far,

distant, where the vanished day is borne.
Chorus: Thou hold'st our minds in dire uncertainty.

Speak OUl and tell us what this horror is,

And who iis author. Yet would I inquire

Not who, but which he is. Speak quickly, then. 640

Messenger: There is upon the lofty citadel

A part of Pclops' house that fronts the south,

Whose farther side lifts up its massive walls

To mountain heights; for so the reigning king

May better sway the town, and hold in check

The common rabble when it scorns the throne.

Within this palace is a gleaming hall, 645

So huge, it may a multitude contain;

Whose golden architraves are high upborne

By stately columns of a varied hue.

Behind this public hall where people throng,

The palace stretches off in spacious rooms;

And, deep withdrawn, the royal sanctum lies, 650

Far from the vulgar gaze. This sacred spot

An ancient grove within a dale confines,

Wherein no tree its cheerful shade affords,

Or by the knife is pruned; but cypress trees

And yews, and woods of gloomy ilex wave

Their melancholy boughs. Above them all 655

A towering oak looks down and spreads abroad,

O'ershadowing all the grove. Within this place

The royal sons of Tantalus are wont

To ask consent of heaven to their rule,

And here to seek its aid when fortune frowns.

Here hang their consecrated offerings:

Sonorous trumpets, broken chariots,

Those famous spoils of the Myrtoan sea; 660

Still hang upon the treacherous axle-trees

The conquered chariot-wheels — mementoes grim

Of every crime this sinful race has done.

Thyestes

315

Chorus:

Here also is the Phrygian turban hung

Of Pelops' self; and here the spoil of foes,

A rich embroidered robe, the prize of war.

An oozy stream springs there beneath the shade, 665

And sluggish creeps along within the swamp,

Just like the ugly waters of the Styx

Which bind the oaths of heaven. 'Tis said that here

At dead of night the hellish gods make moan,

And all the grove resounds with clanking chains,
.And mournful howl of ghosts. Here may be seen 670

( Whatever, but to hear of, causes fear.

The spirits of the ancient dead come forth

From old, decaying tombs, and walk abroad;

While monsters, greater than the world has known,

Go leaping round, grotesque and terrible.

The whole wood gleams with an uncanny light,

And without sign of fire the palace glows.

Ofttimes the grove re-echoes with the sound 675

Of threefold bayings of the dogs of hell,

And oft do mighty shapes affright the house.
)Nor are these fears allayed by light of day;

For night reigns ever here, and e'en at noon

The horror of the underworld abides.

From this dread spot are sure responses given 680

To those who seek the oracle; the fates

With mighty sound from out the grot are told,

And all the cavern thunders with the god.

' I'was to this spot that maddened Atreus came,

His brother's children dragging in his train.

The sacrificial altars are adorned —

Oh, who can worthily describe the deed ?

Behind their backs the noble captives' hands 685

Are bound, and purple fillets wreathe their brows.

All things are ready, incense, sacred wine,

The sacrificial meal, and fatal knife.

The last detail is properly observed,

That this outrageous murder may be done

In strict observance of the ritual !

Who lays his hand unto the fatal steel ? 690

316 The TRAGEDIES OF SENECA

Missenger: He is himself the priest; the baleful prayer

Hi' makes, and chants the sacrificial soul,'

Willi wild and boisterous words; before the shrine

He takes his place; the victims doomed to death

He sets in order, and prepares the sword.

He gives the closest heed to all details

And misses no least portion of the rite. 695

The grove begins to tremble, earth to quake,

And all the palace totters with the shock,

And seems to hesitate in conscious doubt

Where it shall throw its ponderous masses down.

High on the left a star with darkling train

Shoots swift athwart the sky; the sacred wine

Poured at the altar fires, with horrid change, 700

Turns bloody as it flows. The royal crown

Fell twice and yet again from Atreus' head,

And the ivory statues in the temple wept.

These monstrous portents moved all others sore;
) But Atreus, only, held himself unmoved,

And even set the threat'ning gods at naught.

And now delay is at an end. He stands 705

Before the shrine with lowering, sidelong gaze.

As in the jungle by the Ganges stream

A hungry tigress stands between two bulls,

Eager for both, but yet in doubtful mood

Which first shall feel her fangs (to this she turns 710

With gaping jaws, then back to that again,

And holds her raging hunger in suspense) :

So cruel Atreus eyes the victims doomed

To sate his cursed wrath; and hesitates

\Vho first shall feel the knife, and who shall die

The next in order. 'Tis of no concern,

But still he hesitates, and gloats awhile 715

In planning how to do the horrid deed.
Chorus: Who then is first to die ?
Messenger: First place he gives

(Lest you should think him lacking in respect)

Unto his grandsire's namesake, Tantalus.
Chorus: What spirit, what demeanor showed the youth ?

Thyestes 317

—p--,

Messenger: ^He stood quite unconcerned, nor strove to plead, 720

Knowing such prayer m re vain. But in his neck
That savage butcher plunged his gleaming sword
Clear to the hilt and drew it forth again.
Still stood the corpse upright, and, wavering long,
As 'twere in doubt or here or there to fall, 725

At last prone on the uncle hurled itself.
Then he, his rancor unabated still,
Dragged youthful Plisthenes before the shrine,
And quickly meted him his brother's fate.
With one keen blow he smote him on the neck,
Whereat his bleeding body fell to earth;
While with a murmur inarticulate,
His head with look complaining rolled away.

Chorus: What did he then, this twofold murder done ? 730

The last one spare, or heap up crime on crime?

Messenger: As when some maned lion in tne woods
Victorious attacks the Armenian herds —
(His jaws are smeared with blood, his hunger gone;
And yet he does not lay aside his wrath; 735

Now here, now there he charges on the bulls,
And now the calves he worries, though his teeth
Are weary with their work) — so Atreus raves;
He swells with wrath; and, grasping in his hand
The sword with double slaughter dripping yet,
By fury blinded but with deadly stroke,

He drives clean through the body of the boy. 740

And so, from breast to back transfixed, he falls
By double wound, and with his streaming blood
Extinguishes the baleful altar fires.

Chorus: Oh, horrid deed!

Messenger: What ! horrid call ye that ?

If only there the course of crime had stopped,
'Twould pious seem. 745

Chorus: What more atrocious crime,

What greater sin could human heart conceive?

Messenger: And do ye think his crime was ended here?
'Twas just begun.

Chorus: What further could there be ?

3 1 8 The Tragedies of Seneca

Perchance be threw the corpses to be torn
By raving beasts, and kept them from the fire
Messenger: Would that he had! I do nol pray for this,
That friendly earth may give them burial,
Or funeral fires consume; but only this, 750

' That as a ghastly meal they may be thrown
To birds and Bavage beasts. Such is my prayer,
Which otherwise were direful punishment.
(. Hi, that the father might their corpses see
Denied to sepulture ! Oh, crime of crimes,
Incredible in any age; a crime
Which coming generations will refuse

To hear! Behold, from breasts yet warm with life, 755

The exta, plucked away, lie quivering,
The lungs still breathe, the timid heart still beats.
But he the organs with a practiced hand
Turns deftly over, and inquires the (Jates^
Observing carefully the viscera.
With this inspection satisfied at length,

With mind at ease, he now is free to plan 760

His brother's awful feast. With his own hand
The bodies he dismembers, caning off
The arms and shoulders, laying bare the bones,
And all with savage joy. He only saves
The heads and hands, those hands which he himself
Had clasped in friendly faith. Some of the flesh
Is placed on spits and by the roasting fires 765

Hangs dripping; other parts into a pot
Are thrown, where on the water's seething stream
They leap about. The fire in horror shrinks
From the polluting touch of such a feast,
Recoils upon the shuddering altar-hearth
Twice and again, until at last constrained,
Though with repugnance strong, it fiercely burns.
The liver sputters strangely on the spits; 770

Nor could I say whether the flesh or flames
Groan more. The fitful flames die out in smoke
Of pitchy blackness; and the smoke itself,
A heavy mournful cloud, mounts not aloft

Thyestes 319

In upward-shooting columns, straight and high,

But settles down like a disfiguring shroud

Upon the very statues of the gods. 775

O all -enduring sun, though thou didsi lice

In horror from the sight, and the radiant noon

Didst into darkness plunge; 'twas all too late.

The father tears his sons, and impiously feasts

On his own flesh. See, there in state he sits,

His hair anointed with the dripping nard, 780

His senses dulled with wine. And oft the food,

As if in horror held, sticks in his throat.

In this thine evil hour one good remains,

One only, () Thyestes: that to know

Thy depth oi suffering is spared to thee.

But even this will perish. Though the sun

Should turn his chariot backward on its course, 785

And tigHt, at noon arising from the earth,

Should quite obscure this foul and ghastly crime

With shades unknown, it could not be concealed;

For every evil deed shall be revealed.

[Unnatural darkness has come over the world at midday.}
Chorus: O father of the earth and sky,

Before whose rising beams the night 790

With all her glories flees away;
Oh, whither dost thou turn thy course,
And why, midway of heaven, does day
\ To darkness turn ? O Phoebus, why
1 Dost turn away thy shining face ?
Not yet has evening's messenger

Called forth the nightly stars; not yet 795

The rounding of thy western goal
Hids loose thy horses from their toil;
Not yet, as day fades into night,
Sounds forth the trumpets' evening call.
The plowman stands in dumb amaze, 800

With oxen still unspent with toil,
To see the welcome supper hour
So quickly come. But what, O sun,

3«o

The Tragedies of Seneca

S

lias driven thee from thy heavenly course?
What cause from their accustomed way
Has turned thy steeds? Is war essayed
Omv more by giants, bursting forth
From out tlu' riven gates of Dis? 805

Does Tityos, though wounded sore,
Renew his ancient, deadly wrath?
Perchance Typhoeus lias thrown off
His mountain, and is free once more;

Perchance once more a way to heaven 810

Those giants, felled in Phlegra's vale,
Are building, and on Pelion's top
Are piling Thracian Ossa high.
The accustomed changes of the heavens
Are gone to come no more. No more
The rising and the setting sun

Shall we behold. Aurora bright, 815

The herald of the dewy morn,
Whose wont it is to speed the sun
\'Upon his way, now stands amazed 1
VTo see herjfing(-lonx-£>Yprtnrnpd.
rShe is not skilled to batheTnTsteeds,
' A-weary with their rapid course,

I Nor in the cooling sea to plunge 820

I Their reeking manes. The sun himself,
In setting, sees the place of dawn,
And bids the darkness fill the sky
Without the aid of night. No stars
Come out, nor do the heavens gleam

With any fires; no moon dispels 825

The darkness' black and heavy pall.
Oh, that the night itself were here,
Whatever this portends ! Our hearts
Are trembling, yea, are trembling sore,
And smitten with a boding fear

Lest all the world in ruins fall, 830

And formless chaos as of yore
O'erwhelm us, gods and men; lest land,
And all -encircling sea, and stars

Thyestes 321

That wander in the spangled heavens,

Be buried in the general doom.

No more with gleaming, deathless torch, 835

^ Shall Phoebus, lord of all the stars,

Lead the procession of the years

And mark the seasons; nevermore

Shall Luna, flashing back his rays,

Dispel the fears of night; and pass
) In shorter course her brother's car. 840

The throng of heavenly beings soon

Shall in one vast abyss be heaped.

That shining path of sacred stars,

Which cuts obliquely 'thwart the zones, 845

The standard-bearer of the years,

Shall see the stars in ruin fall,

Itself in ruin falling. He,

The Ram, who, in the early spring,

Restores the sails to the warming breeze,

Shall headlong plunge into those waves 850

Through which the trembling maid of Greece

He bore of old. And Taurus, who

Upon his homs like a garland wears

The Hyades, shall drag with him

The sacred Twins, and the stretched-out claws

Of the curving Crab. With heat inflamed,

Alcides' Lion once again 855

Shall fall from heaven; the Virgin, too,

Back to the earth she left shall fall;

And the righteous Scales with their mighty weights,

Shall drag in their fall the Scorpion.

And he, old Chiron, skilled to hold 860

Upon his bow of Thessaly

The feathered dart, shall lose his shafts

And break his bow. Cold Capricorn,

Who ushers sluggish winter in,

Shall fall from heaven, and break thy urn,

Whoe'er thou art, O Waterman. 865

And with thee shall the Fish depart

Remotest of the stars of heaven;

322 The Tragedies or SENECA

Ami those monsters1 huge which never yel
Were in the ocean plunged, shall soon

Within the all engulfing sea

Be sua 1 lowed up. And that huge Snake,

Which like a winding river glides 870

Between the Hears, shall fall from heaven;2

United with that serpent huge,

The Lesser Hear, congealed with cold,

And that slow driver of the Wain

No longer stable in its course,

Shall all in common ruin fall.

Have we, of all the race of men, 875

Been worthy deemed to be o'erwhelmed
l. And buried 'neath a riven earth ?

Is this our age the end of all ?

Alas, in evil hour of fate

Were we begotten, wretched still,

Whether the sun is lost to us 880

Or banished by our impious sins!

But away with vain complaints and fear:
Eager for life is he who would not die,
Though all the world in death around him lie.

ACT V

Atrcus [entering exultingly]: The peer of stars I move, high over all, | 885
And with exalted head attain the heavens!
Now are the reins of power within my hands,
, And I am master of my father's throne.
r V\I here renounce the gods, for I have gained
The height of my desires. It is enough,
And even I am satisfied. But why ?
£Nay, rather, will I finish my revenge,
And glut the father with his feast of death. 890

The day has fled, lest shame should hold me back;
Act then, while yet the darkness veils the sky.
Oh, that I might restrain the fleeing gods,
And force them to behold the avenging feast!
But 'tis enough, if but the father sees. 895

1 Reading, monslra. ' Reading, with a semicolon after Anguis.

Thyestes 323

Though daylight aid me not, yet will I snatch

The shrouding darkness from thy miseries.

Too long with care-free, cheerful countenance

Thou licst at the feast. Now food enough,

And wine enough. For so great ills as these, 900

Thyestes must his sober senses keep.
[To the slaves.]

Ye menial throng, spread wide the temple doors,

The festal hall reveal. 'Tis sweet o note

The father's frantic grief when first he sees

His children's gory heads; to catch his words,

To watch his color change; to see him sit,
]A11 breathless with the shock, in dumb amaze,

J In frozen horror at the gruesome sight. 905

This is the sweet reward of all my toil —

To see his misery, e'en as it grows

Upon his soul.
[The doors are thrown open, showing Thyestes at the banquet table.]
Now gleams with many a torch

The spacious banquet hall. See, there he lies

Upon his golden couch all richly decked

With tapestry, his wine-befuddled head

Upstayed upon his hand. Oh, happy me! 910

p(C_*The mightiest of the heavenly gods am I,

And king of kings! The fondest of my hopes _ ^

Is more than realized. His meal is done; E'rtL^ */

Now raises he his silver cup to drink.

Spare not the wine; there still remains the blood

Of thy three sons, and 'twill be well disguised 915

With old red wine. Now be the revel done.

Now let the father drink the mingled blood

Of his own offspring; mine he would have drunk.

But see, he starts to sing a festal song.

With mind uncertain and with senses dim.
Thyestes [sits alone at the banquet table, half overcome with wine;
he tries to sing and be gay, but in spite 0/ this, some
vague premonition oj evil weighs upon his spirit]:
O heart, long dulled with wretchedness, 920

Put by at last thine anxious cares.

The Tragedies of Seneca

( >h, now lei grief and fear depart;
Lei haunting hunger flee away.
The grim companion of the lot
Of trembling exiles; and disgrace,
A heavy Load for mourning souls. 925

n Mon- boots it from what height thou fall'st,
Than to what depth. How noble is't,
When fallen from the pinnacle,
With dauntless step and firm, to tread
The lowly plain; and noble too,
Though by a mass of cares o'erwhclmed,
To bolster up the shattered throne 930

With neck unbending; and with soul
Heroic, undismayed by ills,
To stand erect beneath the weight
iOf ruined fortunes.

But away,
Ye gloomy clouds of fate; ye marks

Of former misery, depart. 935

Thy happy fortune greet with face
Of joy, and utterly forget
The old Thyestes. But alas!
This fault is linked with wretchedness,
That never can the woeful soul
Accept returned prosperity.
\ Though kindly fortune smile again, 940

He who has suffered finds it hard
To give himself to joy- But why
Dost thou restrain me ? Why forbid
To celebrate this festal day ?
Why wouldst thou have me weep, O grief,
For no cause rising Y Why with flowers 945

Dost thou forbid to wreathe my hair ?
It does, it does forbid ! For see,
Upon my head the flowers of spring
Have withered; and my festal locks,
Though dripping with the precious nard,
Stand up in sudden dread; my cheeks,
That have no cause to weep, are wet 950

Thyestes 325

f

With tears; and in the midst of speech
) I groan aloud. No doubt 'tis true,
That grief, well trained in weeping, loves
'To melt away in tears; and oft
The wretched feel a strong desire
To weep their fill. E'en so I long
To cry aloud my wretchedness,
1 To rend these gorgeous Tyrian robes, 955

And shriek my misery to heaven.
My mind gives intimation dark
jOf coming grief, its own distress
^Foreboding. So the sailor fears
The raging tempest's near approach,

When tranquil waters heave and swell, 960

Without a breath of wind. Thou_fooI,
What grief, what rising storm of fate
Dost thou imagine nigh ? Nay, nay,
^ Believe thy brother; for thy fear- —
'Tis groundless, whatsoe'er it be,
'Or thou dost fear too late. Ah me,

I would not be unhappy now; 965

1 But in my souFdim terror stalks,
(Nor can my eyes withhold their tears;
And all for naught. What can it be ?
' Am I possessed by grief or fear ?
Or can this some great rapture be,
J That weeps for joy?
Atrcus [greeting his brother with effusive affection]: With one consent,

my brother, let us keep 970

This festal day. For this the happy day
Which shall the scepter 'stablish in thy hand,
And link our family in the bonds of peace.
Thyestes [pushing the remains of the feast from him]: Enough of food
and wine! One thing alone
Can swell my generous sum of happiness —
If with my children I may share my joy. 975

Atrcus: Believe that in the father's bosom rest

The sons; both now and ever shall they be
With thee. No single part of these thy sons

fA

326

The Tragedies of Seneca

Shall e'd be taken from thee. Make request:
What thou desirest will I freely give,

And fill thee with thy loving family.

Thou shalt be satisfied; be nut afraid. 980

E'en now thy children, mingled with my own,

Enjoy alone their youthful festival.

They shall be summoned hither. Now behold

This ancient cup, an heirloom of our house.

Take thou and drink the wine which it contains.
[ //c hands Thyestcs the cup filled with mingled blood and wine.]
Thyestes: 1 take my brother's proffered gift. But first

Unto our father's gods we'll pour a share,

And then will drink the cup. 985

But what is this ?

My hands will not obey my will; the cup —

How heavy it has grown, how it resists

My grasp! And see how now the wine itself,

Though lifted to my mouth, avoids the touch,

And flees my disappointed lips. Behold,

The table totters on the trembling floor;

The lights burn dim; the very air is thick, 990

And, by the natural fires deserted, stands

All dull and lifeless 'twixt the day and night.

What can it all portend ? Now more and more

The shattered heavens seem tottering to their fall;

The darkness deepens, and the gloomy night

In blacker night is plunged. And all the stars

Have disappeared. Whatever this may mean, 995

Oh, spare my children, brother, spare, I pray;

And let this gathering storm of evil burst

Upon my head. Oh, give me back my sons!
Atreus: Yes, I will give them back, and never more

Shall they be taken from thy fond embrace.

[Exit.]
Thyestes: What is this tumult rising in my breast ?

[Why do my vitals quake ? I feel a load 1000

Unbearable, and from my inmost heart

Come groans of agony that are not mine.

My children, come ! your wretched father calls.

Thyestes 327

Oh, come! For when mine eyes behold you here,

Perchance this care will pass away. — But whence

Those answering calls ?
Atrcus [returning, with a covered platter in his hands]:

Now spread thy loving arms.

See, here they are.
[He uncovers the platter revealing the severed heads of Thyestes'

sons.]
Dost recognize thy sons ? 1005

Thyestes:*)! recognize my brother! How, O Earth, /

I Canst thou endure such monstrous crime as this ?

Why dost thou not to everlasting shade

And Styx infernal cleave a yawning gulf,

And sweep away to empty nothingness

This guilty king with all his realm ? And why

Dost thou not raze, and utterly destroy 1010

The city of Mycenae ? Both of us

Should stand with Tantalus in punishment.

If, far below the depths of Tartarus,

There is a deeper hell, O Mother Earth,

Thy strong foundations rend asunder wide,

And send us thither to that lowest pit. 1015

\There let us hide beneath all Acheron;

Let damned shades above our guilty heads

Go wandering; let fiery Phlegethon

In raging torrent pour his burning sands

Above our place of exile.

But the earth

Insensate lies, and utterly unmoved. 1020

The gods have fled.
Atrcus: Nay» come with thankful heart

Receive thy sons whom thou hast long desired.

Enjoy them, kiss them, share among the three

Thy fond embraces.
Thyestes: And is this thy bond ?

Is this thy grace, thy fond fraternal faith ?

So dost thou cease to hate ? I do not ask 1025

That I may have my sons again unharmed;

But what in crime and hatred may be given,

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The Tragedies of Seneca

Atreus:

Thyestes:

A trcus:
Thyestes:

Atreus:

This I, a brother, from a brother ask:

Thai 1 may bury them. Restore my sons,

Ami thou shall see their corpses burned at once.

The father begs for naught that he may keep,

Hut utterly destroy. 1030

Thou hast thy sous,
Whate'er of them remains; thou also hast
Whate'er does not remain.

What hast thou done ?
Hast fed them to the savage, greedy birds?
Have beasts of prey devoured their tender flesh ?
Thou has I thyself that impious banquet made.
Oh, then, 'twas this that shamed the gods of heaven, 1035

And drove the day in horror back to dawn !
Ah me, what cries shall voice, what plaints express
My wretchedness? Where can I find the words
That can describe my woe ? The severed heads
And hands and mangled feet are there; for these
Their sire, for all his greed, could not devour. 1040

But Oh, I feel within my vitals now
That horrid thing which struggles to be free,
But can no exit find. Give me the sword,
Which even now is reeking with my blood,
That it may set my children free from me.
Thou wilt not give it me ? Then let my breast 1045

Resound with crushing blows — but hold thy hand,
Unhappy one, and spare the imprisoned shades.
Oh, who has ever seen such crime as this ?
What dweller on the rough and hostile crags
Of Caucasus, or what Procrustes dire,
The terror of the land of Attica ?

Lo I, the father, overwhelm my sons, 1050

And by those very sons am overwhelmed.
Is there no limit to this crime of thine ?
When one for its own sake commits a crime,
There is a proper limit; but no end
Is possible when vengeance through the crime
Js sought. E'en as it is, this deed of mine
Is all too mild. I should have poured their blood

Thyestes 329

Straight from their gaping wounds into thy mouth, 1055

That thou mightst drink their very streams of life

But there my wrath was cheated of its due

By overhaste.

I smote them with the sword,

I slaughtered them before the sacred shrine,
1 And with their blood appeased our household gods;

I hewed their lifeless bodies limb from limb;

I carved them into bits, and part I seethed 1060

In brazen kettles, part before the fire

On spits I roasted. From their living limbs

I carved the tender flesh, and saw it hiss

And sputter on the slender spit, the while

With my own hands I kept the fire a-blaze. 1065

But all these things the father should have done.

In this my vengeful gnet Has fallen short. ~

With impious teeth he tore his slaughtered sons;
_But still in merciful unconsciousness

The deed was done and suffered. s
Thyestes: ' O ye seas,

Hemmed round by curving shores, give ear to this!

Hear too, ye gods, wherever ye have fled. 1070

Ye lords of hades, hear; hear, O ye lands;
{ And Night, all black and heavy with the pall

Of Tartarus, attend unto my cry;

For I am left to thee, and thou alone

Doth look in pity on my wretchedness,

Thou, too, forsaken of the friendly stars;

For I will raise no wicked prayers to thee,

Naught for myself implore— what could I ask ? 1075

For you, ye heavenly gods, be all my prayers.

O thou, almighty ruler <>f the sky,

Who sitt'st as lord upon the throne of heaven,

Enwrap the universe in dismal clouds,

Incite the winds to war on every side,

And let thy thunders crash from pole to pole; 1080

Not with such lesser Ixilts as thou dost use

Against the guiltless homes of common men,

But those which overthrew the triple mass

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The Tragedies of Seneca

Of heaped-up mountains, and those giant forms,
Themselves like mountains huge: such arms employ;
' Hurl down such fires. Avenge the banished day; 1085

With thy consuming Sames supply the light

Which has been snatched from out the darkened heaven.

Select us both as objects of thy wrath;

Or if not both, then me; aim thou at me.

With that three-forked bolt of thine transfix 1090

My guilty breast. If I would give my sons

To burning and to fitting burial,

I must myself be burned. But if my prayers

Do not with heaven prevail, and if no god

Aims at the impious his fatal shaft;

Then may eternal night brood o'er the earth,

And hide these boundless crimes in endless shade.

If thou, O sun, dost to thy purpose hold, 1095

And cease to shine, I supplicate no more.
Aircus: Now do I praise my handiwork indeed;

Now have I gained the palm of victory.

My deed had failed entirely of its aim,

Didst thou not suffer thus. Now may I trust

That those I call my sons are truly so,

And faith that once my marriage bed was pure

Has come again.
Thyestes: What was my children's sin ? 1100

Atreus: Because they were thy chidlren.
Thyestes: But to think

That children to the father —
Atreus: That indeed,

I do confess it, gives me greatest joy:

That thou art well assured they were thy sons.
Thyestes: I call upon the gods of innocence —
Atreus: Why not upon the gods of marriage call ?
Thyestes: Why dost thou seek to punish crime with crime?
Atreus: Well do I know the cause of thy complaint:

Because I have forestalled thee in the deed.

Thou grievest, not because thou hast consumed 1105

This horrid feast, but that thou wast not first

To set it forth. This was thy fell intent.

Thyestes

331

To arrange a feast like this unknown to me,

And with their mother's aid attack my sons,

Anil with a like destruction lay them low.

But this one thing opposed — thou thought'st them thine.
Thyestes: (The gods will grant me vengeance. Unto them 11 10

Do I intrust thy fitting penalty.
Atreus: And to thy sons do I deliver thee.

TROADES

TROADES

DRAMATIS PERSONAE

J Agamemnon King of the Greek forces in the war against Troy.
JPyrrhus . . Son of Achilles, one of the active leaders in the final events of

the war.
Ulysses . . King of Ithaca, one of the most powerful and crafty of the

Greek chiefs before Troy.

* Calchas . . A priest and prophet among the Greeks.
' Talthybius . A Greek messenger.

* An Old Man Faithful to Andromache.
Astyanax . Little son of Hector and Andromache.

« Hecuba . . Widow of Priam, one of the Trojan captives.
. 1 ndromache Widow of Hector, a Trojan captive.
Helena . . Wife of Menelaiis, king of Sparta, and afterward of Paris,

a prince of Troy; the exciting cause of the Trojan war.
Polyxcna . Daughter of Hecuba and Priam (persona muta).

* Chorus . . Of captive Trojan women.

The SCENE is laid on the seashore, with the smouldering ruins of Troy
in the background. The time is the day before the embarkation of the
Greeks on their homeward journey.

The long and toilsome siege of Troy is done. Her stately palaces and
massive walls have been overthrown and lie darkening the sky with their still
smouldering ruins. Her heroic defenders are either slain or scattered seek-
ing other homes in distant lands. The victorious Greeks have gathered the
rich spoils oj Troy upon the shore, among these, the Trojan women who have
suffered the usual fate of women when a city is sacked. They await the lot
which shall assign them to their Grecian lords and scatter them among the
cities of their foes. All things are ready for the start.

But now the ghost of Achilles has risen from the tomb, and demanded
that Polyxena be sacrificed to him before the Greeks shall be allowed to sail
away. And Calchas, also, bids that Astyanax be slain, for only thus can
Greece be safe from any future Trojan war. And thus the Trojan captives,
who have so long endured the pains of war, must suffer still this double
tragedy.

Hecubt

a:

ACT I

Whoe'er in royal power has put his trust,
( And proudly lords it in his princely halls;
] Who fears no shifting of the winds of fate,
But fondly gives his soul to present joys:
Let him my lot and thine, O Troy, behold.
\ For of a truth did tfortun^ never show
In plainer wise the frailty of the prop
That doth support a king; since by her hand
Brought low, behold, proud Asia's capitol,
The work of heavenly hands, lies desolate.
From many kinds the warring princes came
To aid her cause: from where the Tanais
His frigid waves in seven-fold channel pours;
And that far land which greets the newborn day,
Where Tigris mingles with the ruddy sea

{His tepid waves; and where the Amazon,
Within the view of wandering Scythia
Arrays her virgin ranks by Pontus' shores.
Yet here, o'erthrown, our ancient city lies,
Herself upon herself in ruins laid;
Her once proud walls in smouldering heaps recline,
Mingling their ashes with our fallen homes.
The palace flames on high, while far and near
The stately city of Assaracus
Is wrapped in gloomy smoke. Yet e'en the flames
Keep not the victor's greedy hands from spoil;
And Troy, though in the grasp of fiery death,
Is pillaged still. The face of heaven is hid
f By that dense, wreathing smoke; the shining day,
As if o'erspread by some thick, lowering cloud,
Grows black and foul beneath the ashy storm.
The victor stands with still unsated wrath,
Eyeing that stubborn town of Ilium,
And scarce ;it hist forgives those ten long years
Of bloody strife. Anon, as he beholds

337

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20

The T r a g e d i"e s of Seneca

That mighty city, though in ruins laid,

He starts with fear; and though he plainly sees

His foe o'ercome, he scarce can comprehend 25

That she amid be o'ercome. The Dunlan spoil
Is heaped on high, a booty vast, which Greece,
In all her thousand ships, can scarce bestow.

Now witness, ye divinities whose face
Was set against our state, my fatherland
In ashes laid; and thou, proud king of Troy,
Who in thy city's overthrow hast found
A fitting tomb; thou shade of mighty Hector,
In whose proud strength abiding, Ilium stood; 30

Likewise ye thronging ghosts, my children all,
But lesser shades: whatever ill has come;
Whatever Phoebus' bride with frenzied speech,
Though all discredited, hath prophesied; 35

I, Hecuba, myself foresaw, what time,
With unborn child o'erweighed, I dreamed a dream
That I had borne a flaming brand. And though,
Cassandra-like, I told my fears, my warnings,
Like our Cassandra's words in after time,
Were all in vain. 'Tis not the Ithacan,
Nor yet his trusty comrade of the night,
Nor that false traitor, Sinon, who has cast
The flaming brands that wrought our overthrow:
,\ Mine is the fire — 'tis by my brands ye burn. 40

But why dost thou bewail the city's fall,
With ancient gossip's prattle ? Turn thy mind,
Unhappy one, to nearer woes than these.
Troy's fall, though sad, is ancient story now.
I saw the horrid slaughter of the king,

Defiling the holy altar with its stain, 45

When bold Aeacides, with savage hand
Entwined in helpless Priam's hoary locks,
Drew back his sacred head, and thrust the sword
Hilt-buried in his unresisting side.
And when he plucked the deep-driven weapon back,
So weak and bloodless was our aged king,
The deadly blade came almost stainless forth. 50

T R O A D E s 339

Whose thirst for blood had not been satisfied

By that old man just slipping o'er the verge

Of life? Whom would Dot heavenly witnesses

Restrain from crime ? Who would not stay his hand

Before the sacred altar, last resort

Of fallen thrones? Yet he, our noble Priam,

The king, and father of so many kings,

Lies like the merest peasant unentombed; 55

And, though all Troy's aflame, there's not a brand

To light his pyre and give him sepulture.

And still the heavenly powers are not appeased.

Behold the urn; and, subject to its lot,

The maids and matrons of our princely line,

Who wait their future lords. To whom shall I,

An aged and unprized allotment, fall ?

One Grecian lord has fixed his longing eyes

On Hector's queen; another prays the lot

To grant to him the bride of Helenus; 60

Antenor's spouse is object of desire,

And e'en thy hand, Cassandra, hath its suitor:
} My lot alone they deprecate and fear.

And can ye cease your plaints? O captive throng,

Come beat upon your breasts, and let the sound

Of your loud lamentations rise anew,

The while we celebrate in fitting wise

Troy's funeral; let fatal Ida, seat 65

Of that ill-omened judgment, straight resound

With echoes of our pitiful refrain.
Chorus: Not an untrained band, to tears unknown,

SThou callest to grief, for our tears have rained
In streams unending through the years,
Since the time when the Phrygian guest arrived
At the friendly court of Tvndarus, 70

Sailing the sea in his vessel framed
I mm the sacred pines of Cybele.
Ten winters have whitened Ida's slopes,
So often stripped for our funeral pyres;
Ten years have ripened the waving grain
Which the trembling reaper has garnered in

340

The Tragedies of Seneca

From wide Sigeao harvest -fields: 75

JBut never a day was without its grief,

Never a night hut renewed our woe.

Then on with the wailing and on witli the blows;

And thou, i>oor fate smitten queen, be our guide, 80

Our mistress in mourning; we'll obey thy commands,

Well trained in the wild liturgy of despair.
Hecuba: 1 Then, trusty comrades of oiirv fate,

Unbind your tresses and let them flow

Over your shoulders bent with grief,

The while with Troy's slow-cooling dust 85

Ye sprinkle them. Lay bare your arms,

Strip from your breasts their covering;

Why veil your beauty ? Shame itself 90

Is held in captive bonds. And now

Let your hands wave free to the quickening blows

That resound to your wailings. So, now are ye ready,

And thus it is well. I behold once more

My old-time Trojan band. Now stoop

And fill your hands; 'tis right to take

Her dust at least from fallen Troy.
SNow let the long-pent grief leap forth, 95

'And surpass your accustomed bounds of woe.

Oh, weep for Hector, wail and weep.
Chorus: Our hair, in many a funeral torn, 100

We loose; and o'er our streaming locks

Troy's glowing ashes lie bestrewn.

From our shoulders the veiling garments fall, 105

And our breasts invite the smiting hands.
I Now, now, O grief, put forth thy strength.

Let the distant shores resound with our mourning-,
) And let Echo who dwells in the slopes of the mountains

Repeat all our wailings, not, after her wont, no

\ With curt iteration returning the end.

Let earth hear and heed; let the sea and the sky

Record all our grief. Then smite, O ye hands,

With the strength of frenzy batter and bruise.

With crying and blows and the pain of the smiting — 115

Oh, weep for Hector, wail and weep.

'

T R O AD E S

341

Hecuba: Our hero, for thee the blows are descending,

On arms and shoulders that stream with our blood;
For thee our brows endure rough strokes,
And our breasts are mangled with pitiless hands.
Now flow the old wounds, reopened anew,
That bled at thy death, the chief cause of our sorrow.
■4 O prop of our country, delayer of fate,
Our Ilium's bulwark, our mighty defender,
Our strong tower wast thou; secure on thy shoulders,
Our city stood leaning through ten weary years.
By thy power supported, with thee has she fallen,
Our country and Hector united in doom.
Now turn to another the tide of your mourning;
[Let Priam receive his due meed of your tears.

Chorus: Receive our lamentings, O Phrygia's ruler;

-\We weep for thy death, who wast twice overcome.
Naught once did Troy suffer while thou didst rule o'er

her:
Twice fell her proud walls from the blows of the Gre-
cians,
And twice was she pierced by great Hercules' darts.
Now all of our Hecuba's offspring have perished,
And the proud band of kings who came to our aid;
Thy death is the last — our father, our ruler —
Struck down as a victim to Jove the Almighty,
All helpless and lone, a mute corpse on the ground.

Hecuba: Nay, give to another your tears and your mourning,

And weep not the death of Priam our king.
But call yc him blessed the rather; for free,
To the deep world of shadows he travels, and never
Upon his bowed neck the base yoke shall he bear.
No proud sons of Atreus shall call him their captive,
No crafty Ulysses his eyes shall behold;
As boast of their triumphs he shall not bear onward
In humble submission their prizes of war.
Those free, royal hands to the scepter accustomed,
Shall never be bound at his back like a slave,
As he follows the car of the triumphing chieftain,
A king led in fetters, the gaze of the town.

1 20

125

J3°

135

140

145

!5°

155

1 1 a The Tragedies of Seneca

Chorus: Hail! Priam tin- Messed we all do proclaim him;

For himself and his kingdom be rules yet below;
Now through the still depths of Elysium's shadows
'Midst calm, happy spirits he seeks the great Hector. 160
Then hail, happy Priam I Hail all who in battle
Have lost life and country, but liberty gained.

ACT II

Taltkybius: Alas, 'tis thus the Greeks are ever doomed
To lie impatient of the winds' delay,
Whether on war or homeward journey bent. 165

Chorus: Tell thou the cause of this the Greeks' .delay.

What god obstructs the homeward-leading paths ?

Taltkybius i My soul doth quake, and all my limbs with fear
JDo tremble. Scarce is credence given to tales
That do transcend the truth. And yet I swear,
"With my own eyes I saw what I relate.

Now with his level rays the morning sun 170

Just grazed the summits of the hills, and day
Had vanquished night; when suddenly the earth,
'Mid rumblings hidden deep and terrible,
)To her profoundest depths convulsive rocked.
\The tree-tops trembled, and the lofty groves
.Gave forth a thunderous sound of crashing boughs;
While down from Ida's rent and rugged slopes 175

The loosened bowlders rolled. And not alone
\The earth did quake: behold, the swelling sea
Perceived its own Achilles drawing near,
And spread its waves abroad. Then did the ground
\Asunder yawn, revealing mighty caves,
And gave a path from Erebus to earth.

And then-toe" high -heaped sepulcher was rent, • 180

From which there sprang Achilles' mighty shade,
In guise as when, in practice for thy fates,
O Troy, he prostrate laid the Thracian arms,
Or slew the son of Neptune, doomed to wear
The swan's white plumes; or when, amidst the ranks
In furious battle raging, he the streams 185

Did choke with corpses of the slain, and Xanthus

T R O A D E S J43

Crept sluggishly along with bloody waves;
Or when he stood as victor in his car,
Plying the reins and dragging in the dust
Great Hector's body and the Trojan state.
So there he stood and filled the spreading shore 190

With wrathful words: "Go, get you gone, ye race
Of weaklings, bear away the honors due
My manes; loose your thankless ships, and sail
Across my seas. By no slight offering
Did ye aforetime stay Achilles' wrath;
And now a greater shall ye pay. Behold,
I 'olyxena, once pledged to me in life, r 195

Must by the hand of Pyrrhus to my shade
Be led, and with her blood my tomb bedew."
So spake Achilles and the realms of day
He left for night profound, reseeking Dis;
And as he plunged within the depths of earth,
[The yawning chasm closed and left no trace.
The sea lies tranquil, motionless; the wind
Its boisterous threats abates, and where but now 200

The storm -tossed waters raged in angry mood,
The gentle waves lap harmless on the shore;
While from afar the band of Tritons sounds
The marriage chorus of their kindred lord.

[Exit.]
[Enter Pyrrhus and Agamemnon.]
Pyrrhus: Now that you homeward fare, and on the sea
Your joyful sails would spread, my noble sire
Is quite forgot, though by his single hand
Was mighty Troy o'erthrown; for, though his death 205

Some respite granted to the stricken towp, r
She stood but as some sorely smitten tree,
That sways uncertain. < hoosing where to fall.
Though even now ye seek to make amends
1'or your neglect, and haste to grant the thing
I [e asks, 'tis but a tardy recompense.
Long since, the other chieftains of the Greeks
Have gained their just reward. What lesser prize
Should his great valor claim ? Or is it naught 210

Ml The Tragedies of Seneca

That, though his mother bade him shun the war,
And spend his life in long, inglorious ease,
Surpassing even I'vlian Nestor's years,
I Ee cast his mother's shamming garments off.
Confessing him the hero that he was?

When Telephus, in pride of royal power, 215

Forbade our progress through his kingdom's bounds,
lie stained with royal blood the untried hand
That young Achilles raised. Yet once again
He felt that selfsame hand in mercy laid
Upon his wound to heal him of its smart.
Then did Eetion, smitten sore, behold
His city taken and his realm o'erthrown;

By equal fortune fell Lyrnessus' walls, 220

For safety perched upon a ridgy height,
Whence came that captive maid, Briseis fair;
And Chrysa, too, lies low, the destined cause
Of royal strife; and Tenedos, and the land
Which on its spreading pastures feeds the flocks 225

Of Thracian shepherds, Scyros; Lesbos too,
Upon whose rocky shore the sea in twain
Is cleft; and Cilia, which Apollo loved.
All these my father took, and eke the towns
Whose walls Caycus with his vernal flood
. Doth wash against. This widespread overthrow
Of tribes, this fearful and destructive scourge,
That swept through many towns with whirlwind power — 230
This had been glory and the height of fame
For other chiefs; 'twas but an incident
In great Achilles' journey to the war.
So came my father and such wars he waged
While but preparing war. And though I pass
In silence all his other merits, still

Would mighty Hector's death be praise enough. 235

My father conquered Troy; the lesser task
Of pillage and destruction is your own.
'Tis pleasant thus to laud my noble sire
And all his glorious deeds pass in review:
Before his father's eyes did Hector lie,

T R O A D E s 345

Of life despoiled; and Memnon, swarthy son

Of bright Aurora, goddess of the dawn,

For whose untimely death his mother's face

Was sicklied o'er with grief, while day was veiled 240

In darkness. When the heaven-born Memnon fell,

Achilles trembled at his victory;

For in that fall he learned the bitter truth

That even sons of goddesses may die.
\ Then, 'mongst our latest foes, the Amazons,
{ Fierce maidens, felt my father's deadly power.

So, if thou rightly estimate his deeds,

Thou ow'st Achilles all that he can ask,

E'en though he seek from Argos or Mycenae 245

Some high-born maid. And dost thou hesitate

And haggle now, inventing scruples new-f""

And deem it barbarous to sacrifice

This captive maid of Troy to Peleus' son?

But yet for Helen's sake didst thou devote

Thy daughter to the sacrificial knife.

I make in this no new or strange request,

But only urge a customary rite.
Agamemnon: 'Tis the common fault of youth to have no check 250

I On passion's force; while others feel alone

The sweeping rush of this first fire of youth,

His father's spirit urges Pyrrhus on.

I once endured unmoved the blustering threats

Of proud Achilles, swoll'n with power; and now,

My patience is sufficient still lo bear

His son's abuse. Why do you seek to smirch 255

With cruel murder the illustrious shade

Of that famed chief? 'Tis fitting first to learn

Within what bounds the victor may command,

The vanquished suffer. Never has for long
Unbridled power been able to endure,
But lasting sway [he self controlled enjoy.

The higher fortune raises human hopes, 260

The more should fortune's favorite control

His vaulting pride, and tremble as he views

The changing fates of life, and fear the gods

346 The Tragedies or Seneca

Who have uplifted him above his mates.

By my own course of conquest have I learned
[That mighty kings can straightway come to naught.

Should Troy o'erthroWD exalt us overmuch ?

Behold, we stand today whence she has fallen. 265

I own that in the past too haughtily

Have 1 my sway o'er fallen chieftains borne;
jBut thought of fortune's gift has checked my pride,

Since she unto another might have given
SThese selfsame gifts. O fallen king of Troy,

\Thou mak'st me proud of conquest over thee,

(Thou mak'st me fear that I may share thy fate.' 270

Why should I count the scepter anything
J But empty honor and a tinsel show?

This scepter one short hour can take away,

Without the aid, perchance, of countless ships
''And ten long years of war. The steps of ,fate

Do not for all advance with pace so slow. 275

For me, I will confess ('tis with thy grace,

O land of Greece, I speak) I have desired

To see the pride and power of Troy brought low;

But that her walls and homes should be o'erthrown

In utter ruin have I never wished. ,\

But a wrathful foe, by greedy passion driven,

And heated by the glow of victory, /

Within the shrouding darkness of the night, 280

Cannot be held in check. If any act

Upon that fatal night unworthy seemed

Or cruel, 'twas the deed of heedless wrath,

And darkness which is ever fury's spur,

And the victorious sword, whose lust for blood,

When once in blood imbued, is limitless.

1 Since Troy has lost her all, seek not to grasp 285

The last poor fragments that remain. Enough,
And more has she endured of punishment.
But that a maid of royal birth should fall
An offering upon Achilles' tomb,
Bedewing his harsh ashes with her blood,
While that foul murder gains the honored name

T r o a d e s 347

Of wedlock, I shall not permit On me

The blame of all will come; for he who sin 290

Forbids not when he can, commits the sin.

Pyrrhus: Shall no reward Achilles' shade obtain?

Agamemnon: Yea, truly; all the Greeks shall sing his praise,
And unknown lands shall hear his mighty name.
But if his shade demand a sacrifice 295

Of out-poured blood, go take our richest flocks,
And shed their blood upon thy father's tomb;
^But let no mother's tears pollute the rite.
What barbarous custom this, that living man
Should to the dead be slain in sacrifice ?
Then spare thy father's name the hate and scorn
Which by such cruel worship it must gain. 300

Pyrrhus: (Thou, swoll'n witli pride so long as happy fate
^Uplifts thy soul, but weak and spent with fear
When fortune frowns; O hateful king of kings,
Is now thy heart once more with sudden love
vOf this new maid inflamed? Shalt thou alone

So often bear away my father's spoils ? 305

By this right hand he shall receive his own.

And if thou dost refuse, and keep the maid,

A greater victim will I slay, and one

More worthy Pyrrhus' gift; for all too long >

From royal slaughter hath my hand been free, •

And Priam asks an equal sacrifice. 310

Agamemnon: Far be it from my wish to dim the praise

That thou dost claim for this most glorious deed —
Old Priam slain by thy barbaric sword,
Thy father's suppliant.

Pyrrhus: I know full well

My father's suppliants — and well I know

His enemies. Yet royal Priam came,

And made his plea before my father's fan ; 315

Put thou, o'ercomc with fear, not brave enough

Thyself to make request, within thy tent

Didst trembling hide, and thy desires consign

To braver men, that they might plead for thee.

Agamemnon: Put, of a truth, no fear thy father felt;

I

348 The Tragedies of Seneca

Bui while our Greece lay bleeding, and lier ships

With hostile fire were threatened, there he lay

Supine and thoughtless of his warlike arms, 320

And idly strumming on his tuneful lyre.

Pyrrkus: Then mighty Hector, scornful of thy arms,

Vet felt such wholesome fear of that same lyre,
That our Thessalian ships were left in peace.

Agamemnon: An equal peace did Hector's father find

When he betook him to Achilles' ships. 325

PyrrJius: 'Tis regal thus to spare a kingly life.

Agamemnon: Why then didst thou a kingly life despoil ?

Pyrrkus: But mercy oft doth offer death for life.

Agamemnon: Doth mercy now demand a maiden's blood ? 330

PyrrJius: Canst thou proclaim such sacrifice a sin ?

Agamemnon: A king must love his country more than child.

Pyrrhus: No law the wretched captive's life doth spare.

Agamemnon: What law forbids not, this let shame forbid.

PyrrJius: 'Tis victor's right to do whate'er he will. 335

Agamemnon: Then should he will the least who most can do.

PyrrJius: Dost thou boast thus, from whose tyrannic reign
Of ten long years but now the Greeks I freed ?

Agamemnon: Such airs from Scyros!

PyrrJius: Thence no brother's blood.

Agamemnon: Hemmed by the sea!

Pyrrhus: Yet that same sea is ours. 340

But as for Pelops' house, I know it well.

Agamemnon: Thou base-bom son of maiden's secret sin,
And young Achilles, scarce of man's estate —

PyrrJius: Yea, that Achilles who, by right of birth,

Claims equal sovereignty of triple realms: 345

His mother rules the sea, to Aeacus

The shades submit, to mighty Jove the heavens.

Agamemnon: Yet that Achilles lies by Paris slain !
j PyrrJius: But by Apollo's aid, who aimed the dart;
For no god dared to meet him face to face.

Agamemnon: I could have checked thy words, and curbed thy tongue,

Too bold in evil speech; but this my sword 350

Knows how to spare. But rather let them call
The prophet Calchas, who the will of heaven

T R 0*A D E S

349

Can tell. If fate demands the maid, I yield.

[Enter Calchas.]
Thou who from bonds didst loose the Grecian ships,
And bring to end the slow delays of war;
Who by thy mystic art canst open heaven,
And read with vision clear the awful truths
Which sacrificial viscera proclaim;

To whom the thunder's roll, the long, bright trail 355

Of stars that flash across the sky, reveal
\ The hidden tilings of fate; whose every word
Is uttered at a heavy cost to me:
What is the will of heaven, O Calchas; speak,
And rule us with the mastery of fate.
Calchas: The Greeks must pay th' accustomed price to death, 360

Ere on the homeward seas they take their way.
The maiden must be slaughtered on the tomb
Of great Achilles. Thus the rite perform:
As Grecian maidens are in marriage led
By other hands unto the bridegroom's home,
So Pyrrhus to his father's shade must lead
His promised bride. 365

But not this cause alone
Delays our ships: a nobler blood than thine,
Polyxena, is due unto the fates;
For from yon lofty tower must Hector's son,
Astyanax, be hurled to certain death.
Then shall our vessels hasten to the sea,

And fill the waters with their thousand sails. 370

[Exeunt.]
Chorus: When in the tomb the dead is laid,

When the last rites of love are paid;

When eyes no more behold the light,

Closed in the sleep of endless night;
^ Survives there aught, can we believe ?

Or does an idle tale deceive ? 375

What boots it, then, to yield the breath

A willing sacrifice to death,

If still we gain no dreamless peace,

And find from living no release ?

350 The Tragedies of Seneca

Say, do we, dying, end all pain?

Docs QO Leasl part of US remain ?

When from this perishable clay

The flitting breath has sped away;
Does then the soul that dissolution share
And vanish into elemental air? 380

Whate'er the morning sunbeam knows,

Whate'er his setting rays disclose;

Whate'er is bathed by Ocean wide,

In ebbing or in flowing tide:

Time all shall snatch with hungry greed,

With mythic Pegasean speed. 385

Swift is the course of stars in flight,

Swiftly the moon repairs her light;

Swiftly the changing seasons go,

While time speeds on with endless flow:

But than all these, with speed more swift,

Toward fated nothingness we drift. 390

For when within the tomb we're laid,

No soul remains, no hov'ring shade
Like curling smoke, like clouds before the blast,
This animating spirit soon has passed. 395

Since naught remains, and death is naught

But life's last goal, so swiftly sought;

Let those who cling to life abate

Their fond desires, and yield to fate;

And those who fear death's fabled gloom,

Bury their cares within the tomb.

Soon shall grim time and yawning night

In their vast depths engulf us quite; 4°°

Impartial death demands the whole —

The body slays nor spares the soul.

Dark Taenara and Pluto fell,

And Cerberus, grim guard of hell — •

All these but empty rumors seem, 4°5

The pictures of a troubled dream.
Where then will the departed spirit dwell ?
Let those who never came to being tell.

Troades 351

I

ACT III
[Enter Andromache, leading the Utile Astyanax.]
Andromache: What d • ye Ihtc, sad throng of Phrygian dames?

Why tear your hair and heat your wretched breasts? 410

Why stream your cheeks with tears? Our ills are light
If we endure a grief that tears can soothe.
You mourn a Troy whose walls but now have fall'n;
Troy fell for me long since, when that dread car
Of Peleus' son, urged on at cruel speed,
With doleful groanings 'neath his massive weight,
Dragged round the walls my Hector's mangled corse. 415

Since then, o'erwhelmed and utterly undone,
With stony resignation do I bear
Whatever ills may come. But for this child,
Long since would I have saved me from the Greeks
And followed my dear lord; but thought of him
Doth check my purpose and forbid my death.
For his dear sake there still remaineth cause 420

To supplicate the gods, an added care.
Through him the richest fruit of woe is lost —
The fear of naught; and now all hope of rest
\ From further ills is gone, for cruel fate
Hath still an entrance to my grieving heart.

Most sad his fear, who fears in hopelessness. 425

An Old Man: What sudden cause of fear hath moved thee so?
Andromache: Some greater ill from mighty ills doth rise.

^The fate of fallen Troy is not yet stayed.
Old Man: What new disasters can the fates invent?
Andromache: The gates of deepest Styx, those darksome realms

I. est fear be wanting to our overthrow), 430

Are opened wide, and forth from lowest Dis

The spirit of our buried foeman comes.

(May Greeks alone retrace their steps to earth ?
\For death at least doth come to all alike.)

That terror doth invade the hearts of all;

But what I now relate is mine alone — 435

A terrifying vision of the night.
Old Man: What was this vision ? Speak, and share thy fears.
Andromache: Now kindly night had passed her middle goal,

,o- The Tragedies of Seneca

And their bright zenith had the Bean o'crcome.
Then came to my afflicted soul a calm 440

Long since unknown, and o'er my weary eyes,
For one brief hour did drowsy slumber steal,
If that l>e sleep -the stuj>or of a soul
Forespent with ills: when suddenly I saw
' Before mine eyes the shade of Hector stand;
Not in such guise as when, with blazing torch,
He Strove in war against the Grecian ships, 445

Nor when, all stained with blood, in battle fierce
Against the Danai, he gained true sjx)il
From that feigned Peleus' son; not such his face,
All flaming with the eager battle light;
MSut weary, downcast, tear-stained, like my own,
All covered o'er with tangled, bloody locks. 450

Still did my joy leap up at sight of him;
And then he sadly shook his head and said:
"Awake from sleep and save our son from death,
O faithful wife. In hiding let him lie;
Thus only can he life and safety find.
Away with tears — why dost thou mourning make
For fallen Troy ? I would that all had fall'n. 455

Then haste thee, and to safety bear our son,
The stripling hope of this our vanquished home,
Wherever safety lies."

So did he speak,
And chilling terror roused me from my sleep.
Now here, now there I turned my fearful eyes.
Forgetful of my son, I sought the arms
Of Hector, there to lay my grief. In vain:
For that elusive shade, though closely pressed, 460

Did ever mock my clinging, fond embrace.
O son, true offspring of thy mighty sire,
Sole hope of Troy, sole comfort of our house,
Child of a stock of too illustrious blood,
Too like thy father, thou: such countenance
My Hector had, with such a tread he walked, 465

"With such a motion did he lift his hands,
Thus stood he straight with shoulders proudly set,

Troades 353

And thus he oft from that high, noble brow

Would backward toss his flowing locks. — But thou,

O son, who cam'st too late for Phrygia's help,

Too soon for me, will that time ever come,

That happy day, when thou, the sole defense, 470

And sole avenger of our conquered Troy,

Shalt raise again her fallen citadel,

Recall her scattered citizens from flight,

And give to fatherland and Phrygians

Their name and fame again ? — Alas, my son,

Such hopes consort not with our present state.

Let the humble captive's fitter prayer be mine — 475

The prayer fur life.

Ah me, what spot remote

Can hold thee safe? In what dark lurking-place

Can I bestow thee and abate my fears ?

Our city, once in pride of wealth secure,

And stayed on walls the gods themselves had built,

Well known of all, the envy of the world,

Now deep in ashes lies, by flames laid low; 480

And from her vast extent of temples, walls

And towers, no part, no lurking-place remains,

Wherein a child might hide. Where shall I choose

A covert safe ? Behold the mighty tomb

Wherein his father's sacred ashes lie,

Whose massive pile the enemy has spared.

This did old Priam rear in days of power, 485

Whose grief no stinted sepulture bestowed.
Then to his father let me trust the child. —

But at the very thought a chilling sweat

^Invades my trembling limbs, for much I fear

The gruesome omen of the place of death. 490

Old Man: In danger, haste to shelter where ye may;

In safety, choose.
Andromache: What hiding-place is safe

From traitor's eyes?
Old Man: All witnesses remove.

Andromache: What if the foe inquire?
Old Man: Then answer thus:

jj 1 The Tragedies o p Seneca

"He perished in the city's overthrow."

This cause alone ere DOW hath safety found

For many from the stroke of death belief

That they have died.

Andromache: Hut scanty hope is left;

Too huge a weight of race doth press him down.

Besides, what can it profit him to hide 495

Who must his shelter leave and face the foe ?
()/</ Man: The victor's deadliest purposes are first.
Andromache: What trackless region, what obscure retreat

Shall hold thee safe? Oh, who will bring us aid
In our distress and doubt ? Who will defend ?
O thou, who always didst protect thine own, 500

.My Hector, guard us still. Accept the trust
Which I in pious confidence impose;
And in the faithful keeping of thy dust
May he in safety dwell, to live again.
Then son, betake thee hither to the tomb.
Why backward strain, and shun that safe retreat?
■U read thy nature right: thou scornest fear. 505

But curb thy native pride, thy dauntless soul,
And bear thee as thine altered fates direct.
\i^> (lor see what feeble forces now are left:
\A sepulcher, a boy, a captive band.
We cannot choose but yield us to our woes.
Then come, make bold to enter the abode,
The sacred dwelling of thy buried sire.

1 If fate assist us in our wretchedness, 510

'Twill be to thee a safe retreat; if life
1 The fates deny, thou hast a sepulcher.
[The boy enters the tomb, and the gates are closed and barred behind

him.]
Old Man: Now do the bolted gates protect their charge.
But thou, lest any sign of fear proclaim
Where thou hast hid the boy, come far away.
^Andromache: Who fears from near at hand, hath less of fear; 515

But, if thou wilt, take we our steps away.
[Ulysses is seen approaching.]
Old Man: Now check thy words awhile, thy mourning cease;

T r o a i) e s 355

For hither bends the Ithacan his course.
Andromacm [with a final appealing look toward the tomb]: Yawn deep,
O earth, and thou, my husband, rend

To even greater depths thy tomb's deep cave, 520

And hide the sacred trust I gave to thee

Within the very bosom of the pit.

Now comes Ulysses, grave and slow of tread;

Methinks he plottcth mischief in his heart.
[Enter Ulysses.]
Ulysses: >As harsh fate's minister, I first implore

That, though the words are uttered by my lips, 525

Thou count them not my own. They are the voice

Of all the Grecian chiefs, whom Hector's son

Doth still prohibit from that homeward voyage

1S0 long delayed. And him the fates demand.

A peace secure the Greeks can never feel,

And ever will the backward-glancing fear 530

Compel them on defensive arms to lean,

While on thy living son, Andromache,

The conquered Phrygians shall rest their hopes.

So doth the augur, Calchas, prophesy.

Yel, even if our Calchas spake no word,

Thy Hector once declared it, and I fear

Lest in his son a second Hector dwell; 535

For ever doth a noble scion grow

Into the stature of his noble sire.

Behold the little comrade of the herd,

His budding horns still hidden from the sight:

Full soon with arching neck and lofty front,

He doth command and lead his father's Hock. 540

The slender twig, just lopped from parent l)ough,

Its mother's height and girth surpasses soon,

And casts its shade abroad to earth and sky.

So doth a spark within the ashes left,

I . ,|> into Same again before the wind.

Thy grief, I know, must partial judgmenl give; 545

Still, if thou weigh the matter, thou wilt grant

That after ten long years of grievous war.

A veteran soldier doeth well to fear

356 T hi Tragedies of Seneca

Still other yean of slaughter, and thy Troy,

Still unsubdued. This fear one cause alone 550

Doth raise — another I Ice tor. Free the Greeks
From dread of war. For this and this alone
Our idle ships still wait along the shore.
And let me not seem cruel in thy sight,
For that, compelled of fate, I seek thy son:
I should have sought our chieftain's son as well.
Then gently suffer what the victor bids. 555

Andromache: Oh, that thou wort within my power to give,
My son, and that I knew what cruel fate
Doth hold thee now, snatched from my eager arms —
Where thou dost lie; then, though my breast were

pierced
With hostile spears, and though my hands with chains
Were bound, and scorching flames begirt my sides, 560

Thy mother's faith would ne'er betray her child.

0 son, what place, what lot doth hold thee now?
Dost thou with wandering footsteps roam the fields ?
Wast thou consumed amid the raging flames ?

Hath some rude victor reveled in thy blood ? 565

Or, by some ravening beast hast thou been slain,
And liest now a prey for savage birds ?
Ulysses: Away with feigned speech; no easy task
For thee to catch Ulysses: 'tis my boast
That mother's snares, and even goddesses'

1 have o'ercome. Have done with vain deceit. 570
Where is thy son ?

Andromache: And where is Hector too ?

Where aged Priam and the Phrygians ?

Thou seekest one; my quest includes them all.
Ulysses: By stern necessity thou soon shalt speak

What thy free will withholds.
Andromache: But safe is she,

Who can face death, who ought and longs to die.
Ulysses: *iBut death brought near would still thy haughty words.
Andromache: If 'tis thy will, Ulysses, to inspire 575

Andromache with fear, then threaten life;

For death has long been object of my prayer.

Troades 357

Ulysses: With stripes, with flames, with lingering pains of death
Shalt thou be forced to speak, against thy will,
What now thou dost conceal, and from thy heart
Its inmost secrets bring. Necessity 580

Doth often prove more strong than piety.

Andromache: Prepare thy flames, thy blows, and all the arts
Devised for cruel punishment: dire thirst,
Starvation, ever)' form of suffering;
Come, rend my vitals with the sword's deep thrust;
In dungeon, foul and dark, immure; do all 585

(A victor, full of wrath and fear, can do
Or dare; still will my mother heart, inspired
^Vith high and dauntless courage, scorn thy threats.
Ulysses: This very love of thine, which makes thee bold,

Doth warn the Greeks to counsel for their sons. 590

This strife, from home remote, these ten long years

Of war, and all the ills which Calchas dreads,

Would slight appear to me, if for myself

I feared: but thou dost threat Telemachus.
Andromache: Unwillingly, Ulysses, do I give

To thee, or any Grecian, cause of joy;

\Yet must I give it, and speak out the woe,

The secret grief that doth oppress my soul. 595

Rejoice, O sons of Atreus, and do thou,

According to thy wont, glad tidings bear

To thy companions: Hector's son is dead.
Ulysses: What proof have we that this thy word is true ?
Andromache: May thy proud victor's strongest threat befall,

And bring my death with quick and easy stroke; 600

May I be buried in my native soil,

May earth press lightly on my I lector's bones:

According as my son, deprived of light,

Amidst the dead doth lie, and, to the tomb

Consigned, hath known the funeral honors due

To those who live no more. 605

Ulysses [joyfully]: Then arc the fates

Indeed fulfilled, since Sector's son is dead,

And I with joy unto the Greeks will go,

With grateful tale of peace at last secure.

The Tragedies of Seneca

\ A. si ili\]
But stay, llvsses, this rash joy of thine I

The Greeks will readily believe thy word;

Hut what dost thou believe?— his mother's oath.
Would then a mother Feign her offspring's death,

And fear no baleful omens of that word ?
They omens fear who have no greater dread. 610

Her truth hath she upheld by Straightest oath.
If that she perjured be, what greater fear
I >.>th vex her soul ? Now have I urgent need
Of all my skill and cunning, all my arts,
By which so oft Ulysses hath prevailed;
For truth, though long concealed, can never die.
\ Now watch the mother; note her grief, her tears, 6r5

Her sighs; with restless step, now here, now there,
She wanders, and she strains her anxious ears
To catch some whispered word. 'Tis evident,
She more by present fear than grief is swayed.
So must I ply her with the subtlest art.

[To Andromache.]
When others mourn, 'tis fit in sympathy
To speak with kindred grief; but thou, poor soul,
I bid rejoice that thou hast lost thy son, 620

Whom cruel fate awaited; for 'twas willed
That from the lofty tower that doth remain
Alone of Troy's proud walls, he should be dashed,
'J And headlong fall to quick and certain death.
Andromache [aside]: My soul is faint within me, and my limbs

\ Do quake; while chilling fear congeals my blood. 625

Ulysses [aside]: She trembles; here must I pursue my quest.
Her fear betrayeth her; wherefore this fear
Will I redouble. —

[To attendants.]
Go in haste, my men,
And find this foe of Greece, the last defense
Of Troy, who by his mother's cunning hand
Is safe bestowed, and set him in our midst.

[Pretending that the boy is discovered.]
'Tis well! He's found. Now bring him here with haste. 630

T r o a d e s 359

[To Andromache.]
Why dost thou start, and tremble ? Of a truth
Thy son is dead, for so hast thou declared.

Andromache: Oh, that I had just cause of dread. But now,
My old habitual fear instinctive starts;
The mind ofttimes forgets a well-conned woe.

Ulysses: Now since thy boy hath shunned the sacrifice

That to the walls was due, and hath escaped 635

I By grace of better fate, our priest declares
That only can our homeward way be won
If Hector's ashes, scattered o'er the waves,
Appease the sea, and this his sepulcher
Be leveled with the ground. Since Hector's son
I fas failed to pay the debt he owed to fate, 640

Then Hector's sacred dust must be despoiled.

Andromacka[aside]: Ah me, a double fear distracts my soul!
Here calls my son, and here my husband's dust.
Which shall prevail ? Attest, ye heartless gods,
And ye, my husband's shades, true deities: 645

Naught else, O Hector, pleased me in my son,
Save only thee; then may he still survive
To bring thine image back to life and me. —
Shall then my husband's ashes be defiled ?
Shall I permit his bones to be the sport
Of waves, and lie unburied in the sea ?

Oh, rather, let my only son be slain ! — 650

And canst thou, mother, see thy helpless child
x To awful death given up ? Canst thou behold
His body whirling from the battlements?
I can, I shall endure and suffer this,
Provided only, by his death appeased,
The victor's hand shall spare my Hector's bones. —
But he can suffer yet, while kindly fate 655

Hath placed his sire beyond the reach of harm.
Why dost thou hesitate? Thou must decide
Whom thou wilt designate for punishment.
(What doubts harass thy troubled soul ? No more
Is Hector here. — Oh, say not so; I feel
He is both here and there. But sure am I

360 'I'lIE Tr AC TIMES OF S EN EC A

Thai this my child is still in life, perchance

To be the avenger of his father's death. 660

But !*>tli I cannot spare. What then? O soul,

Save of the two, whom most the I rreeks do fear.
Ulysses [aside]. Now must 1 force her answer.

[To Andromache.]

From its base

Will I this tomb destroy.
Andromache: The tomb of him

Whose body thou didst ransom for a price ?
Ulysses: I will destroy it, and the sepulcher

From its high mound will utterly remove. 665

Andromache: The sacred faith of heaven do I invoke,

And just Achilles' plighted word: do thou,

0 Pyrrhus, keep thy father's sacred oath.
Ulysses: This tomb shall soon lie level with the plain.
Andromache: Such sacrilege the Greeks, though impious,

Have never dared. 'Tis true the sacred fanes,

E'en of your favoring gods, ye have defiled; 670

But still your wildest rage hath spared our tombs.

1 will resist, and match your warriors' arms
With my weak woman's hands. Despairing wrath

Will nerve my arm. Like that fierce Amazon,

Who wrought dire havoc in the Grecian ranks;

Or some wild Maenad by the god o'ercome,

Who, thrysus-armed, doth roam the trackless glades

With frenzied step, and, clean of sense bereft, 675

Strikes deadly blows but feels no counter-stroke:

So will I rush against ye in defense

Of Hector's tomb, and perish, if I must,

An ally of his shade.

Ulysses [to attendants]: Do ye delay,

And do a woman's tears and empty threats

And outcry move you ? Speed the task I bid. 680

Andromache [struggling with attendants]: Destroy me first! Oh, take
my life instead!
[The attendants roughly thrust her away.]
Alas, they thrust me back ! 0 Hector, come,
■ Break through the bands of fate, upheave the earth,

Troades 361

That thou mayst stay Ulysses' lawless hand.
) Thy spirit will suffice. — Behold he comes!

His arms he brandishes, and firebrands hurls.

Ye Greeks, do ye behold him, or do I,

(With solitary sight, alone behold ? 685

Ulysses: This tomb and all it holds will I destroy.
Andromache [aside, while the attendants begin to demolish the tomb]: Ah
me, can I permit the son and sire

To be in common ruin overwhelmed ?

Perchance I may prevail upon the Greeks

By prayer. — But even now those massive stones

Will crush my hidden child. — Oh, let him die,

In any other way, and anywhere, 690

If only father crush not son, and son

No desecration bring to father's dust.

[Casts herself at the feet of Ulysses.]
A humble suppliant at thy knees I fall,

Ulysses; I, who never yet to man

Have bent the knee in prayer, thy feet embrace.

By all the gods, have pity on my woes,

And with a calm and patient heart receive

My pious prayers. And as the heavenly powers 695

Have high exalted thee in pride and might,

The greater mercy show thy fallen foes.

Whate'er is given to wretched suppliant

Is loaned (o fate. So mayst thou see again

Thy faithful wife; so may Laertes live

To greet thee yet again; so may thy son

Behold thy face, and, more than that thou canst pray, 700

Excel his father's valor and the years

Of old Laertes. Pity my distress:

The only comfort left me in my woe,

Is this my son.
Ulysses: Produce the boy — and pray.

Andromache [goes to the tomb and calls to Astyanax]: Come forth,

^ my son, from the place of thy hiding 705

Where thy mother bestowed thee with weeping and fear.
[Astyanax appears from the tomb. Andromache presents him to

Ulysses.]

362 The Tragedies of Seneca

Urn-, here is the lad, Ulysses, behold him;
The fear of thy armies, the dread of thy fleet !

[To Astyanax.]
My son, thy suppliant hands upraise,

And at the feet of this proud lord,

Bend low in prayer, nor think it base 710

To suffer the lot which our fortune appoints.

Put out of mind thy regal birth,

Thy aged grandsire's glorious rule

Of wide domain; and think no more

Of Hector, thy illustrious sire.

Be captive alone — bend the suppliant knee; 715

-And if thine own fate move thee not,

Then weep by thy mother's wee inspired.
[To Ulysses.]

That older Troy beheld the tears

Of its youthful king, and those tears prevailed

To stay the fierce threats of the victor's wrath, 720

The mighty Hercules. Yea he,

To whose vast strength all monsters had yielded,

Who burst the stubborn gates of hell,

And o'er that murky way returned,

Even he was o'ercome by the tears of a boy. 725

"Take the reins of the state," to the prince he said;
"Reign thou on thy father's lofty throne,

But reign with the scepter of power — and truth."

Thus did that hero subdue his foes.

And thus do thou temper thy wrath with forbearance. 730

And let not the power of great Hercules, only,

Be model to thee. Behold at thy feet,

As noble a prince as Priam of old

Pleads only for life ! The kingdom of Troy

Let fortune bestow where she will. 735

Ulysses [aside]': This woe-struck mother's grief doth move me sore;
But still the Grecian dames must more prevail,
Unto whose grief this lad is growing up.
Andromache [hearing him]: What? These vast ruins of our fallen
town,
To very ashes brought, shall he uprear ?

T R O A D E S 363

Shall these poor boyish hands build Troy again ? 740

No hopes indeed hath Troy, if such her hopes.

So low the Trojans lie, there's none so weak
\That he need fear our power. Doth lofty thought

Of mighty Hector nerve his boyish heart?

What valor can a fallen Hector stir ?

When this our Troy was lost, his father's self

Would then have bowed his lofty spirit's pride;

For woe can bend and break the proudest soul. 745

If punishment be sought, some heavier fate

Let him endure; upon his royal neck

Let him support the yoke of servitude.

Must princes sue in vain for this poor boon?
Ulysses: Not I, but Calchas doth refuse thy prayer. —
Andromache: O man of lies, artificer of crime, 750

By whom in open fight no foe is slain,

But by whose tricks and cunning, evil mind

The very chiefs of Greece are overthrown,

Dost thou now seek to hide thy dark intent

Behind a priest and guiltless gods? Nay, nay:

This deed within thy sinful heart was born.

Thou midnight prowler, brave to work the death 755

Of this poor boy, dost dare at length alone

To do a deed, and that in open day ?
Ulysses: Ulysses' valor do the Grecians know

Full well, and all too well the Phrygians.

But we are wasting time with empty words.

The impatient ships are tugging at their chains.
Andromache: But grant a brief delay, while to my son 760

I pay the rites of woe, and sate my grief

With tears and last embrace.
Ulysses: I would 'twere mine

To spare thy tears; but what alone I may,

I'll give thee respite and a time for grief,
"j Then weep thy fill, for tears do soften woe. 765

Andromache [to Astyanax]: O darling pledge of love, thou only stay

Of our poor fallen house, last pang of Troy;
i O thou whom Grecians fear, O mother's hope,

Alas too vain, for whom, with folly blind,

364 The Tragedies of Seneca

I prayed the war earned praises of his sire,

His royal grandsire's prime of years and strength:

But God hath Boomed my prayers. 770

Thou slialt not live

To wield the scepter in the royal courts

Of ancient Troy, to make thy people's laws,

And send beneath thy yoke the conquered tribes;

Thou shalt not fiercely slay the fleeing Greeks,

Nor from thy car in retribution drag

Achilles' son; the dart from thy small hand 775

Thou ne'er shalt hurl, nor boldly press the chase

Of scattered beasts throughout the forest glades;

And when the sacred lustral day is come,

Troy's yearly ritual of festal games,

The charging squadrons of the noble youth

Thou shalt not lead, thyself the noblest born ;
. Nor yet among the blazing altar fires, 780

With nimble feet the ancient sacred dance

At some barbaric temple celebrate,

While horns swell forth swift-moving melodies.

Oh, mode of death, far worse than bloody war!

More tearful sight than mighty Hector's end

The walls of Troy must see. 785

Ulysses: Now stay thy tears,

J For mighty grief no bound or respite finds.
Andromache: Small space for tears, Ulysses, do I ask;

Some scanty moments yet, I pray thee, grant,

That I may close his eyes though living still,

And do a mother's part.

[To Astyanax.]

Lo, thou must die,

For, though a child, thou art too greatly feared.

Thy Troy awaits thee: go, in freedom's pride, 790

And see our Trojans, dead yet unenslaved.
Astyanax: O mother, mother, pity me and save!
Andromache: My son, why dost thou cling upon my robes,

And seek the vain protection of my hand ?

As when the hungry lion's roar is heard,

The frightened calf for safety presses close 795

Troades 365

Its mother's side; but that remorseless beast,
Thrusting away the mother's timid form,
With ravenous jaws doth grasp the lesser prey,
And, crushing, drag it hence: so shalt thou, too,
Be snatched away from me by heartless foes.
Then take my tears and kisses, O my son,
Take these poor locks, and, full of mother love, 800

Go speed thee to thy sire; and in his ear
Speak these, thy grieving mother's parting words:
"If still thy manes feel their former cares,
And on the pyre thy love was not consumed,
Why dost thou suffer thy Andromache
To serve a Grecian lord, O cruel Hector ?
Why dost thou lie in careless indolence ? 805

Achilles has returned."

Take once again
These hairs, these flowing tears, which still remain
From Hector's piteous death; this fond caress
And rain of parting kisses take for him.
But leave this cloak to comfort my distress,
For it, within his tomb and near his shade,
Hath lain enwrapping thee. If to its folds 810

One tiny mote of his dear ashes clings,
My eager lips shall seek it till they find.
Ulysses: "(Thy grief is limitless. Come, break away,
And end our Grecian fleet's too long delay.
[He leads the boy away with him.}

Chorus: Where lies the home of our captivity ?

On Thessaly's famed mountain heights?

Where Tempe's dusky shade invites? 815

Or Phthia, sturdy warriors' home,

Or where rough Trachin's cattle roam ?

Iolchos, mistress of the main,

Or Crete, whose cities crowd the plain ? 820

Where frequent flow Mothone's rills,

Beneath the shade of Oete's hills,

Whence came Alcides' fatal bow

Twice destined for our overthrow ? 825

4

;m> Tim T&AGEDIES OF Seneca

But whither shall our alien course be sped?

Perch|nce to Pleuron's gates we go,

Where Dian's sell was counted foe;

Perchance to Troezen's winding shore,

The land which mighty Theseus bore;

Or Pelion, by whose rugged side

Their mad ascent the giants tried.

Here, stretched within his mountain cave, 830

Once Chiron to Achilles gave

The lyre, whose stirring strains attest

The warlike passions of his breast. 835

What foreign shore our homeless band invites?

Must we our native country deem

Where bright Carystos' marbles gleam ?

Where Chalcis breasts the heaving tide,

And swift Euripus' waters glide ?

Perchance unhappy fortune calls 840

To bleak Gonoessa's windswept walls;

Perchance our wondering eyes shall see

Elcusin's awful mystery; 845

Or Elis, where great heroes strove

To win the Olympic crown of Jove. 850

Then welcome, stranger lands beyond the sea!

Let breezes waft our wretched band,

Where'er they list, to any land;

If only Sparta's cursed state

(To Greeks and Trojans common fate)

And Argos, never meet our view,

And bloody Pelops' city too; 855

May we ne'er see Ulysses' isle,

Whose borders share their master's guile.
1 But thee, O Hecuba, what fate,

What land, what Grecian lord await ? 860

ACT IV

[Enter Helen.]
) Helen [aside]: Whatever wedlock, bred of evil fate,
Is full of joyless omens, blood and tears,
Is worthy Helen's baleful auspices.

T RO AD E S 367

And now must I still further harm inflict
Upon the prostrate Trojans: 'tis my part
To feign Polyxena, the royal maid,

Is bid to be our Grecian Pyrrhus' wife, 865

And deck her in the garb of Grecian brides.
So by my artful words shall she be snared,
And by my craft shall Paris' sister fall.
But let her be deceived; 'tis better so;
(To die without the shrinking fear of death
Is joy indeed. But why dost thou delay

Thy bidden task ? If aught of sin there be, 870

'Tis his who doth command thee to the deed.

[To Polyxena.]
O maiden, born of Priam's noble stock,
The gods begin to look upon thy house
In kinder mood, and even now prepare
To grant thee happy marriage; such a mate
As neither Troy herself in all her power

Nor royal Priam could have found for thee. 875

For lo, the flower of the Pe.lasgian lords,
Whose sway Thessalia's far-extending plains
Acknowledge, seeks thy hand in lawful wedlock.
Great Tethys waits to claim thee for her own,
And Thetis, whose majestic deity
Doth rule the swelling sea, and all the nymphs
Who dwell within its depths. As Pyrrhus' bride 880

Thou shalt be called the child of Peleus old,
And Nereus the divine.

Then change the garb
Of thy captivity for festal robes,
And straight forget that thou wast e'er a slave.
Thy wild, disheveled locks confine; permit
— That I, with skilful hands, adorn thy head. 885

This chance, mayhap, shall place thee on a throne
More lofty far than ever Priam saw.
The captive's lot full oft a blessing proves.
Andromache: This was the one thing lacking to our woes —

That they should bid us smile when we would weep.
See there! Our city lies in smouldering heaps;

368 The Tragedies of Seneca

A fitting time to talk of marriar 890

Hut wlio would dare refuse? When Seles bids,

Who would not hasten to the wedding rites?
Thou Common Curse of Greeks ami Trojans too,
Thou fatal scourge, thou wasting pestilence,
Dost thou behold where buried heroes lie?
A11J dost thou see these poor unburied bones

That everywhere lie whitening on the plain ?
This desolation hath thy marriage wrought. 895

For thee the blood of Asia flowed; for thee
Did Europe's heroes bleed, whilst thou, well pleased,
Didst look abroad upon the warring kings,
Who perished in thy cause, thou faithless jade!
There! get thee gone! prepare thy marriages!
What need of torches for the solemn rites ?
What need of fire? Troy's self shall furnish forth 900

The ruddy flames to light her latest bride.
Then come, my sisters, come and celebrate
Lord Pyrrhus' nuptial day in fitting wise:
With groans and wailing let the scene resound.
Helen: j Though mighty grief is ne'er by reason swayed,
And oft the very comrades of its woe,

Unreasoning, hates; yet can I bear to stand 905

And plead my cause before a hostile judge,
For I have suffered heavier ills than these.
Behold, Andromache doth Hector mourn,
And Hecuba her Priam; each may claim
The public sympathy; but Helena
Alone must weep for Paris secretly.

Is slavery's yoke so heavy and so hard 910

To bear? This grievous yoke have I endured,
Ten years a captive. Doth your Ilium lie
In dust, your gods o'erthrown ? I know 'tis hard
To lose one's native land, but harder still
To fear the land that gave you birth. Your woes
Are lightened by community of grief;
But friend and foe are foes alike to me.

Long since, the fated lot has hung in doubt 915

That sorts you to your lords; but I alone,

Troades 369

Without the hand of fate am claimed at once.

Think you that I have been the cause of war,

And Troy's great overthrow ? Believe it true

If in a Spartan vessel I approached

Your land; but if, sped on by Phrygian oars, 920

I came a helpless prey; if to the judge

Of beauty's rival claims I fell the prize

By conquering Venus' gift, then pity me,

The plaything of the fates. An angry judge

Full soon my cause shall have — my Grecian lord.

Then leave to him the question of my guilt,

And judge me not.

But now forget thy woes

A little space, Andromache, and bid 925

This royal maid — but as I think on her

My tears unbidden flow.

[She stops, overcome by emotion.]
■Andromache [in scorn]: Now great indeed

Must be the evil when our Helen weeps!

But dry thy tears, and tell what Ithacus

Is plotting now, what latest deed of shame?

Must this poor maid be hurled from Ida's heights,

Or from the top of Ilium's citadel ?

Must she be flung into the cruel sea 930

That roars beneath this lofty precipice,

Which our Sigeum's rugged crag uprears ?

I Come, tell what thou dost hide with mimic grief.

In all our ills there's none so great as this,

That any princess of our royal house

Should wed with Pyrrhus. Speak thy dark intent; 935

What further suffering remains to bear?

To compensate our woes, this grace impart,

That we may know the worst that can befall.
1 Behold us ready for the stroke of fate.
Helen: Alas! I would 'twere mine to break the bonds

Which bind me to this life I hate; to die

By Pyrrhus' cruel hand upon the tomb 940

>Of gre.a A( 1 lilies, and to share thy fate,

O poor Polyxena. For even now,

i:

370 T II B T R.AGBDIES OF S E N E C A

The ghost doth bid that thou be sacrificed,
And that thy blood be spilt upon his tomb;

That thus thy parting soul may mate with his.
Within the borders of Elysium.

Andromache [observing the joy 'villi which Polyxena receives these

tidings]: Behold, her soul leaps up with mighty joy 945

At thought of death; she seeks the festal robes

Wherewith to deck her for the bridal rites,

And yields her golden locks to Helen's hands.

Who late accounted wedlock worse than death,

Now hails her death with more than bridal joy.
[Observing Hecuba.]

But see, her mother stands amazed with woe,

Her spirit staggers 'neath the stroke of fate. 950

[To Hecuba.]

Arise, O wretched queen, stand firm in soul,

And gird thy fainting spirit up.

[Hecuba jails fainting.]

Behold,

By what a slender thread her feeble life

Is held to earth. How slight the barrier now

That doth remove our Hecuba from joy.

But no, she breathes, alas! she lives again,

For from the wretched, death is first to flee.
Hecuba [reviving]: Still dost thou live, Achilles, for our bane ? 955

Dost still prolong the bitter strife ? O Paris,

Thine arrow should have dealt a deadlier wound.

For see, the very ashes and the tomb

Of that insatiate chieftain still do thirst

For Trojan blood. But lately did a throng

Of happy children press me round; and I,

With fond endearment and the sweet caress

That mother love would shower upon them all,

Was oft forespent. But now this child alone 960

Is left, my comrade, comfort of my woes,

' For whom to pray, in whom to rest my soul.

Hers are the only lips still left to me

To call me mother. Poor, unhappy soul,

Why dost thou cling so stubbornly to life ?

Troades 371

( )h, speed thee out, and grant mc death at last,

The only boon I seek. Behold, I weep;

And from my cheeks, o'erwhelmed with sympathy, 965

A sudden rain of grieving tears descends.
Andromache: We, Hecuba, Oh, we should most be mourned,

Whom soon the fleet shall scatter o'er the sea; 970

While she shall rest beneath the soil she loves.
Helen: Still more wouldst thou begrudge thy sister's lot,

If thou didst know thine own.
Andromache: Remains there still

Some punishment that I must undergo ?
Helen: The whirling urn hath given you each her lord.
Andromache: To whom hath fate allotted me a slave? 975

Proclaim the chief whom I must call my lord.
Helen: To Pyrrhus hast thou fallen by the lot.
Andromache: O happy maid, Cassandra, blest of heaven,
^For by thy madness art thou held exempt

From fate that makes us chattels to the Greeks.
Helen: Not so, for even now the Grecian king

Doth hold her as his prize.
Hecuba [to Polyxena]: Rejoice, my child.

How gladly would thy sisters change their lot

For thy death -dooming marriage.
[To Helen.]

Tell me now,

Does any Greek lay claim to Hecuba ?
Helen: The Ithacan, though much against his will, 980

Hath gained by lot a shortdived prize in thee.
Hecuba: What cruel, ruthless providence hath given

A royal slave to serve unkingly1 men ?

What hostile god divides our captive band ?

What heartless arbiter of destiny

So carelessly allots our future lords,

That Hector's mother is assigned to him 985

Who hath by favor gained th' accursed arms

Which laid my Elector low? And must I then

Obey the Ithacan ? Now conquered quite,

Alas, and doubly captive do I seem,

1 Reading, haud regibus.

37a The Tragedies of Seneca

Ami sore beset by all my woes at once.

Now must I blush, not for my slavery, 990

But for my master's sake. Yet Ithaca,

That barren land by savage seas beset,

Shall Dot receive my bones.

Then up, Ulysses,
And lead thy captive home. I'll not refuse
To follow thee as lord; for well I know
That my untoward fates shall follow me.

No gentle winds shall fill thy homeward sails, 995

But stormy blasts shall rage; destructive wars,
And fires, and Priam's evil fates and mine,
Shall haunt thee everywhere. But even now,
While yet those ills delay, hast thou received
Some punishment. For I usurped thy lot,
And stole thy chance to win a fairer prize.

[Enter Pyrrhus.]
But see, with hurried step and lowering brow,
Stern Pyrrhus comes. 1000

[To Pyrrhus.]

Why dost thou hesitate ?
Come pierce my vitals with thy impious sword,
And join the parents of Achilles' bride.
Make haste, thou murderer of aged men,
My blood befits thee too.

[Pointing to Polyxena.]

Away with her;
^Defile the face of heaven with murder's stain,
Defile the shades. — But why make prayer to you ? 1005

T'll rather pray the sea whose savage rage
Befits these bloody rites; the selfsame doom,
Which for my ship I pray and prophesy,
May that befall the thousand ships of Greece,
And so may evil fate engulf them all.

Chorus: 'Tis sweet for one in grief to know

That he but feels a common woe; 1010

And lighter falls the stroke of care
Which all with equal sorrow bear;

Troades 373

'For selfish and malign is human grief 1015

Which in the tears of others finds relief.

Remove all men to fortune born,
And none will think himself forlorn;

Remove rich acres spreading wide, 1020

With grazing herds on every side:
I Straight will the poor man's drooping soul revive,
For none are poor if all in common thrive. 1025

J The mariner his fate bewails,

\\*ho in a lonely vessel sails,

And, losing all his scanty store,

With life alone attains the shore;
But with a stouter heart the gale he braves,
That sinks a thousand ships beneath the waves. 1030

WTien Phrixus fled in days of old

Upon the ram with fleece of gold,

His sister Helle with him fared

And all his exiled wanderings shared;
But when she fell and left him quite alone,
Then nothing could for Helle's loss atone. 1035

Not so they wept, that fabled pair,

Deucalion and Pyrrha fair,

When 'midst the boundless sea they stood

The sole survivors of the flood;
For though their lot was hard and desolate,
They shared their sorrow — 'twas a common fate. 1040

Too soon our grieving company

Shall scatter on the rolling sea,

Where swelling sails and bending oars 1045

Shall speed us on to distant shores.
Oh, then how hard shall be our wretched plight,

When far away our country li<

And round us heaving billows rise,
And lofty Ida's summit sinks from sight.

Then mother shall her child embrace, 1050

And point with straining eyes the place

374 The Tragedies of Seneca

Where Ilium's smouldering ruins lie,
Far off beneath the eastern sky:
"See there, my child, our Trojan ashes glow,
Where wreathing smoke in murky clouds
The distant, dim horizon shrouds;
And by that sign alone our land we know." 1055

ACT V

Messenger [entering]: Oh, cruel fate, Oh, piteous, horrible!

What sight so fell and bloody have we seen

In ten long years of war ? Between thy woes,

Andromache, and thine, O Hecuba,

I halt, and know not which to weep the more.
Hecuba: Weep whosesoe'er thou wilt — thou weepest mine. 1060

While others bow beneath their single cares,

I feel the weight of all. All die to me;

Whatever grief there is, is Hecuba's.
Messenger: The maid is slain, the boy dashed from the walls.

But each has met his death with royal soul.
Andromache: Expound the deed in order, and display 1065

I'he twofold crime. My mighty grief is fain

To hear the gruesome narrative entire.

Begin thy tale, and tell it as it was.
Messenger: One lofty tower of fallen Troy is left,

Well known to Priam, on whose battlements

He used to sit and view his warring hosts. 1070

Here in his arms his grandson he would hold

With kind embrace, and bid the lad admire

His father's warlike deeds upon the field,

Where Hector, armed with fire and sword, pursued

The frightened Greeks. Around this lofty tower 1075

Which lately stood, the glory of the walls,

But now a lonely crag, the people pour,

A motley, curious throng of high and low.

For some, a distant hill gives open view;

While others seek a cliff, upon whose edge 1080

The crowd in tiptoed expectation stand.

The beech tree, laurel, pine, each has its load;

The whole wood bends beneath its human fruit.

Troades 375

One climbs a smouldering roof; unto another

A crumbling wall precarious footing gives; 1085

While others (shameless!) stand on Hector's tomb.

Now through the thronging crowd with stately tread

Ulysses makes his way, and by the hand

He leads the little prince of Ilium.

With equal pace the lad approached the wall; 1090

But when he reached the lofty battlement,

I Ie stood and gazed around with dauntless soul.

Ami as the savage lion's tender young,

Its fangless jaws, all powerless to harm,

Still snaps with helpless wrath and swelling heart; 1095

So he, though held in that strong foeman's grasp,

Stood firm, defiant. Then the crowd of men,

And leaders, and Ulysses' self, were moved.

But he alone wept not of all the throng

Who wept for him. And now Ulysses spake

)ln priestly wise the words of fate, and prayed, 1100

And summoned to the rite the savage gods;

When suddenly, on self-destruction bent,

The lad sprang o'er the turret's edge, and plunged

Into the depths below. —
-Andromache: What Colchian, what wandering Scythian,

What lawless race that dwells by Caspia's sea 1105

Could do or dare a crime so hideous?

No blood of helpless children ever stained

Busiris' altars, monster though he was;

Nor did the horses of the Thracian king

E'er feed on tender limbs. Where is my boy?

Who now will take and lay him in the tomb? 1 1 10

M-sscngcr: Alas, my lady, how can aught remain

From such a fall, but broken, scattered bones,

Dismembered limbs, and all those noble signs

In face and feature of his royal birth,

Confused and crushed ii]>on the ragged ground ?

Who was thy son lies now a shapeless corse. 1 1 15

Andromache: Thus also is he like his noble sire.
Messenger: When headlong from the tower the lad had sprung,

And all the Grecian throng bewailed the crime

376 T ii i Tragedies oi Seneca

Which it had seen and done; that selfsame throng

Returned to witness yel another crime 1120

CJpoD Achilles' tomb. The seaward side

Is beaten by Rhoeteum's lapping waxes;

While on the other sides a level space,

Ami rounded, gently sloping hills beyond,

Encompass it, and make a theater.

Here rush the multitude and fill the place 1125

With eager throngs. A few rejoice that now

Their homeward journey's long delay will end,

And that another prop of fallen Troy

Is stricken down. But all the common herd

Look on in silence at the crime they hate.

The Trojans, too, attend the sacrifice, 11 30

And wait with quaking hearts the final scene

Of Ilium's fall. When suddenly there shone

The gleaming torches of the wedding march;

And, as the bride's attendant, Helen came

With drooping head. Whereat the Trojans prayed:

"Oh, may Hermione be wed like this, 1135

With bloody rites; like this may Helena
Return unto her lord." Then numbing dread
Seized Greeks and Trojans all, as they beheld
The maid. She walked with downcast, modest eyes,
But on her face a wondrous beauty glowed
In flaming splendor, as the setting sun

Lights up the sky with beams more beautiful, 1140

When day hangs doubtful on the edge of night.
All ^azed in wonder. Some her beauty moved,
And some her tender age and hapless fate;
But all, her dauntless courage in the face 1145

/Of death. Behind the maid grim Pyrrhus came;
And as they looked, the souls of all were filled
With quaking terror, pity, and amaze.
But when she reached the summit of the mound
And stood upon the lofty sepulcher, 1150

Still with unfaltering step the maid advanced.

]And now she turned her to the stroke of death
With eyes so fierce and fearless that she smote

Troades 377

The hearts of all, and, wondrous prodigy,

E'en Pyrrhus' bloody hand was slow to strike.

But soon, his right hand lifted to the stroke, 1155

1 [e drove the weapon deep within her breast;

And straight from that deep wound the blood burst forth

In sudden streams. But still the noble maid

)Did not give o'er her bold and haughty mien,

'Though in the act of death. For in her fall

e smote the earth with angry violence,
As if to make it heavy for the dead.

Then flowed the tears of all. The Trojans groaned 1160

With secret woe, since fear restrained their tongues;
But openly the victors voiced their grief.
And now the savage rite was done. The blood
Stood not upon the ground, nor flowed away;
But downward all its ruddy stream was sucked,
As if the tomb were thirsty for the draught.
//■ uba: Now go, ye Greeks, and seek your homes in peace. 1165

With spreading sails your fleet in safety now
May cleave the welcome sea; the maid and boy
Are slain, the war is done. Oh, whither now
Shall I betake me in my wretchedness?
Where spend this hateful remnant of my life ?
Mv daughter or my grandson shall I mourn, n 70

. My husband, country — or myself alone ?

\ O death, my sole desire, for boys and maids
Thou com'st with hurried step and savage mien;
But me alone of mortals dost thou fear
And shun; through all that dreadful night of Troy,
I sought thee 'midst the swords and blazing brands, n 75

But all in vain my search. No cruel foe,
Nor crumbling wall, nor blazing fire, could give
The death I sought. And yet how near I stood
To ag&3 Priam's side when he was slain !
\fess( n \er. Ye captives, haste you to the winding shore;
The sails are spread, our long delay is o'er.

AGAMKMNON

AGAMEMNON

DRAMATIS PERSONAE

AGAMEMNON King of Argos, and leader of all the Greeks in their war

against Troy.
Ghost oj Thyestcs Returned to earth to urge on his son to the vengeance

which he was born to accomplish.

Aegisthus . Son of Thyestes by an incestuous union with his daughter;
paramour of Clytemnestra.

Clytemnestra Wife of Agamemnon, who has been plotting with Aegisthus

against her husband, in his absence at Troy.
Chorus . . Of Argive women.
Eurybates . Messenger of Agamemnon.
Cassandra . Daughter of Priam, captive of Agamemnon.
Electra. . . Daughter of Agamemnon and Clytemnestra.
Strophius . King of Phocis.
Orestes. . . Son of Agamemnon (persona m uta).
Pylades . . Son of Strophius (persona inula).
Band . . . Of captive Trojan women.

The scene is laid partly within and partly without the palace of Aga-
memnon at Argos or Mycenae, on the day of the return of the king from
his long absence at Troy, beginning in the period of darkness just preced-
ing the dawn.

The blood -jend between Atreus and Thyestes was not ended with the
terrible vengeance which Atreus wreaked upon his brother. It was yet in
fate that Thyestes should live to beget upon his own daughter a son,
Aegisthus, who should slay Atreus and bring ruin and death upon the great
Atridcs, Agamemnon.

The Trojan war is done. And now the near approach of the victorious
king, bringing his captives and treasure home to Argos, has been announced.
But little does he dream to what a home he is returning. For Clytemnestra,
enraged at Agamemnon because he had sacrificed her daughter Iphigenia at
Aulis to appease the winds, and full of jealousy because he brings Cassandra
as her rival home, estranged also by the long-continued absence of her lord,
but most estranged by her own guilty union with Aegisthus, is now plotting
to slay Agamemnon on his return, gaining thus at once revenge and safety from
his wrath.

ACT I

Ghost of Thycsks: Escaped from gloomy Pluto's murky realm

And leaving Tartara's deep pit I come,

All doubting which abode I hate the more;

That world I flee, but this I put to flight.

My soul shrinks back, my limbs do quake with fear. 5

I see my father's house — my brother's too!

Here is the ancient seat of Pelop's race;

In this proud hall it is Pelasgians' wont

To crown their kings; here sit those overlords

Whose hands the kingdom's haughty scepter wield; 10

Here is their council chamber — here they feast!

Let me go hence. Were it not better far

To sit beside the dark, sad pools of Styx,

And see the hell-hound's black and tossing mane?

Where one, bound fast upon a whirling wheel, 15

Back to himself is borne; where fruitless toil

Is mocked forever by the rolling stone;

Where living vitals glut the vulture's greed,

Consumed but e'er renewed; and one old man,

By mocking waves surrounded, seeks in vain 20

To sate his burning thirst, dire punishment

For that he strove to trick th' immortal gods.

But, ranked with mine, how slight that old man's sin !

Take count of all whose impious deeds on earth

Make them to tremble at the bar of hell:
} By my dread crimes will I outdo them all; — 25

But not my brother's crimes. Three sons of mine

Lie buried in me, yea, mine own dear flesh

Have I consumed. Nor this the only blot
^With which dire fortune's hand hath stained my soul;

But, daring greater sin, she bade me seek

(Oh, foul impiety!) my daughter's arms. 30

Bold for revenge, I dared and did the deed,

And so the fearful cycle was complete:

As sons the sire, so sire the daughter filled.

383

T II I T B A G EDIES OF S E N EC A

1 luii were the laws oi nature backward turned:
I mingled sire with grandsire, sens with grandsons;

Yea, monstrous! husband and father did I join, 35

(And drove the day hark to the shades of night.
Hut fate at last, though doubtful, long deferred,

Hath had regard unto my evil plight,
/ Ami brought the day of vengeance near; for lo,
This king of kings, this leader of the Greeks,
This Agamemnon comes, whose royal flag 40

A thousand Grecian vessels following
Once filled the Trojan waters with their sails.
Now ten bright suns have run their course, and Troy
Has been o'erthrown, and he is close at hand —
To place his neck in Clytemnestra's power.
Now, now, this house shall flow again with blood,
But this of Atreus' stock ! Swords, axes^jiarts, 45

I see, and that proud head with murderous stroke
Asunder cleft; now impious (rimes are near,
Now treachery, slaughter, blood; the feast is spread.
The cause, Aegisthus, of thy shameful birth,
Is come at last. But why hangs down thy head
In shame ? Why hesitates thy faltering hand 50

And sinks inactive ? Why dost counsel take
Within thy heart, and turn away, and ask
Whether this deed become thee ? Do but think
Upon thy mother; then wilt thou confess
It doth become thee well. But what drags out
In long delay this summer night's brief span
To winter's hours of darkness ? And what cause
Prevents the stars from sinking in the sky ? 55

S The sun shrinks from my face. I must away,
That so he may bring back the light of day.

[Exit.]

s

Chorus of A,rgive women: On fortune's headlong brink they stand
\j ~ \ Who hold the scepter in their hand;

No safe assurance can they know 60

Who on too lofty pathways go:

A G A M E M N O N 385

But care on care pursues them to the last,
Their souls assailed and vexed by every blast.

As seas on Libya's sandy shore

Their waves in ceaseless billows pour; 65

As Euxine's swelling waters rise
Beneath the lowering northern skies,
Where bright Bootes wheels his team

1 Iigh o'er the ocean's darksome stream: 70

With such assaults, by such wild tempests blown,

Does fortune batter at a kingly throne!

Who would be feared, in fear must live.

No kindly night can refuge give;

Nor sleep, that comforts all the rest, 75

LCan bring care-freedom to his breast.
at throne so safe, on such foundation stands,
That may not be destroyed by impious hands?

For justice, shame, the virtues all,

E'en wifely faith, soon flee the hall 80

Where courtiers dwell. Within, there stands

Bellona dire with bloody hands;

Erinys too, the dogging fate,

Of them who hold too high estate,
Which any hour from high to low may bring. 85

TjTOjjgh_axms be lacking, wiles be none,

Still is the will of fortune done:
By T his own greatness falls the king.

'Tis ever thus: the bellying sail 90

rs the o'erstrong though favoring gale;
The tower feels rainy Auster's dread
If to the clouds it rear its head;

Huge oaks most feel the whirlwind's lash; 95

High mountains most with thunder crash;
And while the common herd in safety feeds,
Their mighty leader, marked for slaughter, bio 100

-
I Fate places us on high, that so

To surer ruin we may go.

386 The Tragedies of Seneca

The meanest things in longest fortune live.

Then happy he whose modest soul

In safety seeks a nearer goal; 105

Fearing to leave the friendly shore,

He rows with unambitious oar,
Content in low security to thrive.

ACT II

Clylcmnestra:) Why, sluggish soul, dost thou safe counsel seek?

Why hesitate ? Closed is the better way.

Once thou couldst chastely guard thy widowed couch, no

And keep thy husband's realm with wifely faith;

But now, long since has faith thy palace fled,

The homely virtues, honor, piety,

And chastity, which goes, but ne'er returns.

Loose be thy reins, swift speed thy wanton course;

The safest way through crime is by the path 115

Of greater crime. Consider in thy heart

All woman's wiles, what faithless wives have done,
^Bereft of reason, blind and passion-driven;

What bloody deeds stepmother's hands have dared;

Or what she dared, ablaze with impious love,

Who left her father's realm for Thessaly: 120

Dare sword, dare poison; else in stealthy flight

Must thou go hence with him who shares thy guilt.

But who would talk of stealth, of exile, flight ?

Such were thy sister's deeds: some greater crime,

Some mightier deed of evil suits thy hand.
Nurse: O Grecian queen, illustrious Leda's child, 125

What say'st thou there in whispered mutterings ?

Or what unbridled deeds within thy breast,

By reckless passion tossed, dost meditate ?

Though thou be silent, yet thy face declares

Thy hidden pain in speech more eloquent.
^ Whate'er thy grief, take time and room for thought.
^Time often cures what reason cannot heal. 130

Clytemnestra: Too dire my grief to wait time's healing hand.

My very soul is scorched with flaming pains:

I feel the goads of fear and jealous rage,

A G AMEMNO N 387

The throbbing pulse of hate, the pan^s of love,

Base love that presses hard his heavy yoke 135

Upon my heart, and holds me vanquished quite.

And always, 'mid those flames that vex my soul,

Though faint indeed, and downcast, all undone,

Shame struggles on. By shifting seas I'm tossed:

As when here wind, there tide impels the deep,

The waves stand halting 'twixt the warring powers. 140

And so I'll strive no more to guide my bark.

Where wrath, where grief, where hope shall bear me on,

There will I speed my course; my helmless ship

I've giv'n to be the sport of winds and floods.

Where reason fails 'tis best to follow chance.

Xitrse: Oh, rash and blind, who follows doubtful chance. 145

Clytemnestra: Who fears a doubtful chance, if 'tis his last?

Xurse: Thy fault may find safe hiding if thou wilt.

( 'lytemnestra: Nay, faults of royal homes proclaim themselves.

Xurse: Dost thou repent the old, yet plan the new ?

Clytemnestra: To stop midway in sin is foolishness. 150

Xurse: 1 1 i ^ iVars increase, who covers crime with crime.

Clytemnestra: But iron and fire oft aid the healer's art.

Xurse: Yet desperate measures no one first attempts.

Clytemnestra: The path of sin is headlong from the first.

Xurse: Still let thy wifely fluty hold thee back. 155

Clytemnestra: What long-deserted wife regards her lord?

Xur Your o .rnmon children — hast no thought of them ?

Clytemnestra: I do think on my daughter's wedding rites.
High-born Achilles, and my husband's lies.

Xurse: She freed our Grecian fleet from long delay, 160

And waked from their dull calm the sluggish seas.

Clytemnestra: I I meful th that \, the heaven diorn child

Of Tyndarus, should give my daughter up
To save the Grecian fleet! I see once more
In memory my daughter's wedding clay,

Which he made worthy of base Pelops' house, 165

When, with his pious face, this father stood
Before the altar fires — Oh, monstrous rites!
E'en Calchas shuddered at his own dread words
And backward-shrinking fires. 0 bloody house,

;SS The Tragedies or Seneca

That ever wades through crime to other i rimel

With blood we soothe the winds, with blood we war. 170

Nurse: Yet by that blood a thousand vessels sailed.
Clytcmnestra: But not with favoring omens did they sail;

The port of Aulis fairly drave them forth.

So launched in war, he still no better fared.
JSmit with a captive's love, unmoved by prayer, 175

' He held as spoil the child of Phoebus' priest,

E'en then, as now, a sacred maiden's thrall.

Nor could the stern Achilles bend his will,
- Nor he whose eye alone can read the fates

(A faithful seer to us, to captives mild), 180

Nor his pest-smitten camp and gleaming pyres.

When baffled Greece stood tottering to her fall,

This man with passion pined, had time for love,

Thought ever on amours; and, lest his couch

Should be of any Phrygian maid bereft, 185

He lusted for Achilles' beauteous bride,

Nor blushed to tear her from her lover's arms.

Fit foe for Paris! Now new wounds he feels,

And burns, inflamed by mad Cassandra's love.

And, now that Troy is conquered, home he comes, 190

A captive's husband, Priam's son-in-law!
\ Arise, my soul; no easy task essay;

Be swift to act. What dost thou, sluggish, wait

Till Phrygian rivals wrest thy power away ?

Or do thy virgin daughters stay thy hand, 195

Or yet Orestes, image of his sire ?

Nay, 'tis for these thy children thou must act,

Lest greater ills befall them; for, behold,

A mad stepmother soon shall call them hers.

Through thine own heart, if so thou must, prepare

To drive the sword, and so slay two in one. 200

Let thy blood flow with his; in slaying, die.
-For death is sweet if with a foeman shared.
Nurse: j My queen, restrain thyself, check thy wild wrath,

And think how great thy task. Atrides comes

Wild Asia's conqueror and Europe's lord; 205

He leads Troy captive, Phrygia subdued.

A G VMEMNON 389

« . linst him wouldst thou with sly assault prevail,

Whom great Achilles slew not with his sword,

I ougb he with angry hand the weapon drew;

Nor Telamonian Ajax, crazed with rage; 210

\ r I let tor, Troy's sole prop and war's delay;

Nor Paris' deadly darts; nor Mernnon black;

Nor Xanthus, choked with corpses and with arms;

Nor Simois' waves, empurpled with the slain;

Nor Cycnus, snowy offspring of the sea; 215

Nor warlike Rhesus with his Thracian hand;
^Nor that fierce maid who led the Amazons,

Armed with the deadly battle-axe and shield ?

This hero, home returned, dost thou prepare

To slay, and stain thy hearth with impious blood ?

Would Greece, all hot from conquest, suffer this? 220

Bethink thee of the countless steeds and arms,

The sea a-bristle with a thousand ships,

The plains of Ilium soaked with streams of bl<

Troy taken and in utter ruin laid:

Remember this, I say, and check thy wrath,

And bid thy thoughts in safer channels run. 225

[Exit.]
[Enter Aegisthus.]
I isthus: The fatal day which I was born to see,

Toward which I've ever looked with dread, is here.

Why dost thou fear, my soul, to face thy fa1

And turn away from action scarce begun ?

Be sure that not thy hand is ordering

These 'lire events, but the relentless gods... 230

) Then put thy shame-bought life in pawn to fate

And let thy heart drain suffering i> the dr<

To one of shameful birth death is a boon.
[F.r.ler Clyteinnestra.]

Thou comrade of my perils, Leda's child,

Be with me still in this; and thy false lord, 235

This valiant sire, shall pay thee blood for blood.

But why does pallor blanch thy trembling 1

What bodes this softened face, this list! se ?

Clytemmstra: My husband's love has met and conquered me.

39°

The Tragedies of Seneca

Let us retrace our steps, while still there's room,
To that estate whence we should ne'er have come;

o*

';f/

Let even now fair fame be sought again;

For never is it over late to mend.

Who grieves for .sin is counted innocent.
Acgi sthus: What madness this? Dost thou believe or hope

That Agamemnon will be true to thee ?

Though no grave fears, of conscious guilt begot,

Annoyed thy soul with thoughts of punishment;
\ Still would his swelling, o'er-inflated pride,

Create in him a dour and headstrong mood.

Harsh was he to his friends while Troy still stood;

How, think'st thou, has the fall of Troy pricked on

His soul, by nature harsh, to greater harshness?

Mycenae's king he went; he will return
<iHer tyrant. So doth fortune foster pride.

With how great pomp this throng of rivals comes!

But one of these, surpassing all the rest,

Apollo's priestess, holds the king in thrall.

And wilt thou meekly share thy lord with her ?

But she will not. A wife's last infamy —

To see her rival ruling in her stead.

No throne nor bed can brook a rival mate.
Clytemnestra: Aegisthus, why dost drive me headlong on,

And fan to flames again my dying wrath ?

For if the victor has his right employed,

To work his will upon a captive maid,

His wife should not complain or reck of this.

The law that binds the man fits not the king.

And why should I, myself in conscious guilt,

Make bold to sit in judgment on my lord ?

Let her forgive who most forgiveness needs.
Aegisthus: In very truth there's room for mutual grace.

But thou know'st naught of royal privilege.

Thee will the king judge harshly, to himseli

A milder law in gentler mood apply.

And this they deem the highest pledge of power,

If, what to common mortals is denied,

Is given by general will to them alone.

240

245

250

255

260

265

270

Agamemnon 391

Clykmncstra: He pardoned Helen; home is she returned,

To Mcnelaiis joined, though East and West

Have been engulfed for her in common woe.
Aegisthus: But Menelaiis nursed no secret love, 275

Which closed his heart unto his lawful wife.

Thy lord seeks charge against thee, cause of strife.

Suppose thy heart and life were free from guilt:

What hoots an honest life, a stainless heart,

When hate condemns the suppliant unheard ? 280

Wilt thou seek Sparta's shelter, and return

Into thy father's house i No shelter waits

The scorned of kings] that hope were false indeed.
Clykmncstra: None knows my sin save one most faithful friend.
Aegisthus: In vain: no faith is found in royal courts. 285

Clykmncstra: But surely gifts will buy fidelity.
Aegisthus: Faith bought by gifts is sold for other gifts.
Clykmncstra: My strength and purity of soul revive.

Why wouldst thou thwart me ? Why, with cozening words,

Wj 'uldst thou persuade me to jfty ^vil rn nrsp. ? 290

Dost think that I would leave a king of kings_

And stoop to wed an outcast wretch like thee ?
Aegisthus: \vTTaF? seem I less than Atrcus' son to thee.

Who am Thyestes' son ?
Clykmncstra: Why, so thou art,

And grandson too.
Aegisthus: My getting shames me not;

For Phoebus' self is voucher for my birth.
Clykmncstr<i: Name Phoebus not with thine incestuous stock, 295

\\ bo 1 becked his flying steeds and fled the sky,

Withdrawn in sudden night, lest he behold

Thy father's feast. Wouldst thou besmirch the gods.

Thou, trained to revel iu unlaw fulJoxfi.?

Then get thee gone in haste, and rid mine eyes 300

Of that which doth disgrace this noble house;

This home is waiting for its king and lord.
Aegisthus: Kxilc is naught to me, for I am usi

To woe. At thy command I'll farther flee

Than from this house: I but await thy word

To plunge my dagger in this woeful breast. 305

M>-

Tiie Tragedies of Seneca

Clytemnestn [aside]: Shall 1 in cruel scorn desert him now ?
Who sin in company should suffer so.

[To Aegisthus.]
Nay, come with me; we will together wait
\The issue of our dark and dangerous fate.
[Exeunt into the paku < .]
Chorus:1 Sini: Phoebus' praise, O race renowned;

With festal laurel wreathe your heads;
Am! let your virgin locks flow free,

Ye Argive maids.
And ye who drink of the cold Erasinus,
Who dwell by Eurotas,

Who know the green banks of the silent Ismenus,
Come join in our singing;

And do ye swell our chorus, ye far Theban daughters,
Whom the child of Tiresias, Manto the seer,
Once taught to bow down to the Delian gods.

Now peace has come:
Unbend thy victorious bow, O Apollo,
Lay down from thy shoulder thy quiver of arrows,
And let thy tuneful lyre resound
To the touch of thy swift-flying fingers.
No lofty strain be thine today,
But such as on thy milder lyre
Thou art wont to sound when the learned muse

Surveys thy sports.
And yet, an' thou wilt, strike a heavier strain,
As when thou didst sing of the Titans o'ercome

By Jupiter's hurtling bolts;
When mountain on lofty mountain piled,
Pelion, Ossa, and pine-clad Olympus,
Built high to the sky for the impious monsters

Their ladder's rocky rounds.
Thou too be with us, Juno, queen,
Who sharest the throne of heaven's lord.
Mycenae's altars blaze for thee.
Thou alone dost protect us,
Anxious and suppliant;

■ The line arrangement of Schroeder has been followed in this Chorus.

3IO

315

320

325

33°

335

34o

A C A M i: M N () X

393

Thou art the goddess of peace,

And the issues of war are thine; 345

And thine are the laurels of victory twined
On the brow of our king Agamemnon.
To thee the boxwood flute resounds

In solemn festival;
To thee the maidens strike the harp 350

In sweetest song;
To thee the votive torch is tossed;
The gleaming heifer, all unmarred

By the plow's rough touch

Falls at thy shrine. 355

And thou, child of the Thunderer,

Pallas illustrious, hear;
Before whose might the Dardanian walls

Have trembled and fallen to dust.
Thee maidens and matrons in chorus united 360

Exalt and adore; at thy approach
Thy temple doors swing open wide,
While the welcoming throng, with garlands bedecked,

Rejoice at thy coming;
And feeble, tottering elders come

To pay their vows of thanks and praise, 365

And pour their offerings of wine

With trembling hands.
And to thee with mindful lips we pray,
Bright Trivia, Lucina called.
Thy native Delos didst thou bid

Stand fast upon the sea, and float 370

No more, the wandering mock of winds.
Ami now, with firmly fixed root,
It stands secure, defies the gale,
And, wont of old to follow ships,

Now gives them anchorage.
fProud Xiobe thy vengeance felt 375

Who thy divinity defied.
Now, high on lonely Sipylus,
She sits and weeps in stony grief;
Though to insensate marble turned,

394 The Tragedies of Seneca

Her tears flow fresh forevermore.

And now both men ami women join 380

In praise to the twin divinities.

Hut thee, above all god8, we praise;

Our father ami our ruler thou,

Lord of the hurtling thunderbolt,

At whose dread nod the farthest poles
Do quake and tremble.

O Jove, thou founder of our race, 385

Accept our gifts, and have regard

Unto thy faithful progeny.
But lo, a warrior hither comes in haste,
With wonted signs of victory displayed;

For on his spear a laurel wreath he bears — 390

Eurybates, our king's own messenger.

ACT III

[Enter Eurybates with laurel-wreathed spear.]
Eurybates: Ye shrines and altars of the heavenly gods,
\Ye Lares of my fathers, after long

And weary wanderings, scarce trusting yet

My longing eyes, I give ye grateful thanks.

Pay now your vows which you have vowed to heaven,

Ye Argive people; for behold, your king, 395

The pride and glory of this land of Greece,

Back to his father's house as victor comes.
[Enter Clytemnestra in time to hear the concluding words of the herald.]
Clytemnestra: Oh, joyful tidings that I long to hear!

) But where delays my lord, whom I with grief

For ten long years have waited ? Doth the sea

Still stay his course, or hath he gained the land ?
Eurybates: Unharmed, by glory crowned, increased in praise, 400

He hath set foot upon the long-sought shore.
Clytemnestra: Then hail this day with joy, and thank the gods

Who, though their favoring aid was late bestowed,

At last have smiled propitious on our cause.

But tell me thou, does yet my brother live ?

Say, too, how fares my sister Helena ? 405

Eurybates: If prayer and hope prevail, they yet survive;

Agamemnon 395

No surer tidings is it given to speak

Of those who wander on the stormy sea.

Scarce had die swollen highways of the deep

Received our fleet, when ship from kindred ship

Was driven, and lost amid the gathering gloom.

E'en Agamemnon's self in doubt and fear 410

Went wandering upon the trackless waste,

And suffered more from Neptune's buffetings

Than he had e'er endured in bloody war.

And now, a humble victor, home he comes,

With but a shattered remnant of his fleet.
Clykmneslra^But say what fate has swallowed up mj ships,

And scattered our great chieftains o'er the sea ? 415

Eurybates: A sorry tale 'twould be: thou bid'st me mix

The bitter message with the sweet. But I,

Alas, am sick at heart, and cannot tell

For very horror our most woeful tale.
Clytemnesfra: But tell it even so; for he who shrinks

From knowledge of his woe has greater fear.
' And ills half seen are worse than certainty. 420

Kurybaks: When Troy lies smouldering 'ncath our Grecian fires

We quickly lot the spoil, and seek the sea

In eager haste. And now our weary sides

Are ease"d of the falchion's wonted load;

Our shields along the vessels' lofty stems

Unheeded hang, and once again our hands,

Long used to swords, are fitted to the oar; 425

And all impatiently we wait the word.

Then flashed from Agamemnon's ship the sign

That bade us homeward speed, and clear and loud

The trumpet pealed upon our joyful ears;
■ The flagship's gilded prow gleamed on ahead,

The course directing for a thousand ships. 430

A kindly breeze first stole into our sails

And urged us softly on; the tranquil waves

Scarce rippled with the Zephyr's gentle breath;

The sea was all a-glitter with the fleet

Which lit e'en while it hid the watery way.

'Tis sweet to see the empty shores of Troy, 435

3q6 The Tragedies OP Seneca

The broad plains Left in lonely solitude.

The eager sailors ply the bending oars,

Hands aiding sails, and move their sturdy arms

With rhythmic swing. The furrowed waters gleam,

And sing along the sides, while rushing prows 440

Besprinkle all the sea with hoary spray.

When fresher breezes fill our swelling sails,

We eease from toil, and, stretched along the thwarts,

We watch the far-off shores of Ilium,

Fast fleeing as our vessels seaward fare; 445

Or tell old tales of war: brave Hector's threats,

His corpse dishonored, and again restored

To purchased honors of the funeral pyre;

And Priam sprinkling with his royal blood

The sacred altar of Hercean Jove.

Then to and fro amid the briny sea

The dolphins sport, and leap the heaving waves 450

With arching backs; now race in circles wide,

Now swim beside us in a friendly band,

Now dash ahead or follow in our wake;

Anon in wanton sport they smite our prows,

And so our thousand rushing barks surround. 455

Now sinks the shore from view, the spreading plains;

And far-off Ida seems a misty cloud.

And now, what but the sharpest eye can see,

Troy's rising smoke blurs dim the distant sky.

The sun was bringing weary mortals rest, 460

And waning day was giving place to night;
Cwhen clouds began to fill the western sky,

\nd dim the luster of the sinking sun —

The grim prognostic of a rising gale.
\Young night had spangled all the sky with stars, 465

And empty sails hung languid on the masts;

When low, foreboding sighings of the wind

Spring from our landward side; the hidden shore

Resounds afar with warning mutterings;
I The rising waves anticipate the storm;

The moon is blotted out, the stars are hid, 470

iThe sea leaps skyward, and the sky is gone.

Agamemnon 397

Gloom broods o'er all, but not of night alone;
For blinding mists add blackness to the night,

iAnd murky waves with murky sky contend.
Then in concerted rush from every hand
The winds fall roughly on the ravished sea,
And heave its boiling billows from the depths; 475

While east with west wind struggles, south with north.
Each wields his wonted arms to lash the sea:
The fierce Strymonian blast with rattling hail
Roars on, and Libyan Auster heaps the waves
Upon the seething sands. Nor those alone 480

Provoke the strife: for raving Notus first
Grows big with bursting clouds and swells the waves;
And boisterous Eurus shakes the Orient,
The far Arabian realms and morning seas.
What dire disaster did fierce Corus work,
His dark face gleaming forth upon the deep?
We thought the very heavens would be rent, 485

The gods fall down from out the riven sky,
And all revert to chaos as of old.
The waves opposed the winds, the winds in turn
Hurled back the warring waves. Nor was the sea
Within itself contained; but, lifted high,

It mingled with the streaming floods of heaven. 490

Nor were we solaced in our dreadful plight
By open view and knowledge of our ills;
For darkness like the murky night of Styx
Hedged in our view. Vet was this darkness rent,
' When flashing lightnings cleft the inky clouds 495

With crashing bolts. Vet e'en this fearful gleam
Was welcome to our eyes: so sweet it is
To those in evil plight to see their ills.
The fleet assists its own destruction, too,
Prow dashing hard on prow, and side on side;
Jow sinks it headlong in the yawning flood,

(And now, belched forth, it sees the air again. 500

One plunges down, of its own weight compelled;
Another, through its gaping side, invites
Destruction from the raging floods; a third

398 The TfcAGBDiBS of Seneca

Is smothered by the tenth and mightiest wave.
Here idly Boats a mangled, shattered thing,

Of all its boastful decoration shorn;

And there a ship sans sails and oars and all.

No lofty mast with hanging spars remains, 5°5

But, helpless hulks, the shattered vessels drift

Upon the boundless sea. Amid such ills,

Of what avail the hardy sailor's art?

Cold horror holds our limbs. The sailors stand

In dumb amaze, and all their tasks forget;

While all, in abject terror, drop their oars,

And turn their wretched souls to heaven for aid. 510

Now (marvel of the fates!) with common vows

The Greeks and Trojans supplicate the skies.

Now Pyrrhus envies great Achilles' fate;

Ulysses, Ajax'; Menelaiis, Hector's;

And Priam seems to Agamemnon blest:

Yea all who perished on the plains of Troy,

Whose lot it was to die by human hand,

Are counted blest of heaven, secure in fame, 515

For they rest safely in the land they won.
"Shall winds and waves engulf in common fate

The faint of heart who nothing noble dare,
f And those brave souls who quit themselves like men ?
, Must we for naught resign ourselves to death ?

O thou of gods who art not even yet

With these our evil fortunes satisfied, 520

At last have pity on our woeful plight,

Which Ilium itself would weep to see.

If still thine anger holds, and 'tis decreed

That we of Greece must perish utterly,

Why doom these Trojans, for whose sake we die,

To share our fate ? Allay the raging sea: 525

For this our fleet bears Greeks and Trojans too."

So prayed we, but in vain ; our suppliant words

Were swallowed by the raging storm. And lo,

Another shape of death ! For Pallas, armed

With those swift bolts her angry father wields,

Essays what ruin dire her threatening spear,

s

Agamemnon 399

Her aegis set with stony Gorgon's head, 530

And these her father's thunderbolts, can work.

Unconquered by his ills, with daring soul,

Bold Ajax struggles on. Him, shortening sail

With halyards strained, a falling thunderbolt

Smote full; again the goddess poised her bolt 535

With hand far backward drawn, like Jove himself,

And hurled it true with shock impetuous.

Straight fell the bolt, and, piercing man and ship,

It strewed them both in ruin on the sea.

Still undismayed, he overtops the waves,

All charred and blasted like some rugged cliff, 540

\ And bravely breasts the wildly raging sea.

Still gleaming with the lightning's lurid glare,

He shines amid the blackness like a torch

Which sheds its beams afar upon the deep.
.At length a jutting rock he gains, and shouts

In madness: "Now have I o'ercome the sea, 545

The flames; 'tis sweet to conquer sky, and waves,

The thunderbolts, and her who brandished them.

I've braved the terrors of the god of war;

With my sole arm I fronted Hector, huge,

Nor did the darts of Phoebus frighten me.

Those gods, together with their Phrygians, 550

I set at naught; and shall I quake at thee ?

Thou hurl'st with weakling's hand another's bolts:

But what if Jove himself — "
' When madly thus he dared blaspheme the gods,

Great Neptune witli his trident smote the rock,

And whelmed its tottering bulk beneath the sea. 555

So, falling with its fall, the madman lies

By earth and fire and billows overcome.

But us, poor shipwrecked, hopeless mariners,

A worse destruction waits. There is a reef,

Low lying, treacherous with ragged shoals,

Where false Caphereus hides his rocky foot

Beneath the whirling waters of the sea. 560

j Above this reef the billows heave and dash,

And madly seethe with each recurring wave.

tf

400 The Tragedies of Seneca

High o'er this sp>t a frowning crag projects,
Which views on either side the spreading sea.

There distant lie thine own Pelopian shores,

And there the curving Isthmus, deep withdrawn,

Shielding the broad Aegean from the west 565

There blood-stained Lemnos looms; here Chains1 lies;

And yonder wind-locked Aulis' peaceful port.

This lofty cliff old Nauplius occupied,

With hate inspired for Palamedcs' sake.

There his accursdd hand a beacon raised

And lured us onward to the fatal spot. 570

Now hang our barks by jagged rocks transfixed,

Or founder, wrecked and wrecking in the shoals;

And where but now our vessels sought to land,

They flee the land and choose the angry waves. 575

1 With dawn the sea's destructive rage was spent,

And full atonement had been made to Troy.

Then came the sun again; and brightening day

Revealed the awful havoc of the night.
Clytemnestra: I know not which were better, grief or joy.

I do rejoice to see my lord again, 580

And yet my kingdom's losses counsel tears.

O father Jove, at whose august command

The sounding heavens quake, regard our race,

And bid the angry gods be merciful.

Let every head be decked with festal wreath,

The flute resound, and at the stately shrine

Let snowy victims fall in sacrifice. 585

But lo, a grieving throng, with locks unkempt,

The Trojan women come; and at their head,

With step majestic, queenly, heaven inspired,

Apollo's bride, with his own laurel tired.
[Enter band of Trojan women, led by Cassandra.]
Band 0} Trojan women: Alas, how bitter, yet how sweet a thing,

This love of life we mortals cherish so!

AVhat madness, when the door stands open wide 590

That frees us from our ills, and death calls loud

And welcomes us to everlasting rest !

1 Reading, hinc el Chalcida.

Agamemnon 401

Who finds that refuge, fears no more

These nameless terrors, these assaults,

These insolent assaults of fate,

And sidelong-glancing bolts of Jove. 595

Deep peace of death !
\No frenzied burgher-throng to fear,
1 No victor's threatening madness here;

No wild seas ruffled by the blast;

No hosts in serried battle massed,

Where whirling clouds of dust disclose 600

The savage riders to their foes;
No nation falling with its city's fall,
'Mid smouldering battlement and crumbling wall;
No wasting fires,
No burning pyres,
And all the horrors impious war inspires.
*) They from the servile bonds of fate 605

This human life emancipate,

Who fickle fortune dare to brave,

And face the terrors of the grave;

Who joyful view the joyless Styx,

And dare their mortal span to fix.
How like a king, how like a god on high

Is he who faces death nor fears to die! 610

In one dark night we saw our city doomed,
When Doric fires the Dardan homes consumed;
But not in battle, not by warlike arts,
As once it fell beneath Alcides' darts.

No son of Thetis dealt the blow 615

Which wrought our final overthrow,

Nor his loved friend, Patroclus hight,

When once, in borrowed armor dight,

Hi put our Trojan chiefs to (light;

Nor when Pelides' self gave o'er 620

The fierce resentment that he bore,

And sped him forth on vengeance bent —

Not even in such evils pent,

Did Troy to cruel fortune bend,

But struggled bravely to the end.

-

402 The Tragedies or Seneca

Her bitter Gate for ten Long years to stand.

Ami fall at last 1 >y one vile trickster's hand. 625

In memory still we see the monstrous bulk

I m' that pretended and most fatal gift,

The Grecian horse, which we, too credulous,

With our own hands into our city led.

The noisy-footed monster stumbled oft 630

Upon the threshold of the city gate,

While in its roomy hold crouched kings and war.

And we might well have turned their crafty arts

To work their own destruction. But alas,

We neither saw nor heeded. Oftentimes

The sound of clashing shields smote on our ears,

And low and angry mutterings within 635

Where Pyrrhus 'gainst the shrewd Ulysses strove.

Now free from fear our Trojan youth

Crowd round to touch the sacred cords

With joyous hands. Astyanax

Here leads his youthful playmates on,

While 'midst the maidens gaily comes

The maid Polyxena, foredoomed

To bleed upon Achilles' tomb. 640

Mothers in festal garments bring

Their votive offerings to the gods,

And sires press gaily round the shrines. 645

Throughout the town all faces tell

One tale of joy, e'en Hecuba,

Who, since her Hector's fatal pyre,

Had never ceased her tears, was glad.

But now, unhappy grief, what first,

What last, dost thou prepare to weep ? 650

Our city walls in ruin laid,

Though built by heavenly hands ? our shrines

Upon their very gods consumed ?

Nay, nay; long since our weary eyes

Have dried their tears for these. But now

We weep, O father, king, for thee. 655

We saw, writh our own eyes we saw,
The old man slain by Pyrrhus' impious hand,

Agamemnon 403

Whose scanty blood scarce stained the gleaming brand.
Cassandra: Restrain your tears which lingering time awaits,

Ye Trojan dames; weep Dot for me and mine. 660

Let each bewail her several woes; but I
For my own heavy grief have tears enough.
Band: Yet 'tis a balm of grief to know

That our own tears with others' How;

More sharply gnawrs the hidden care 665

Which we with others may not share:
\ And thou, though strong of soul, inured to grief,
/ Canst not in thine own weeping find relief.

Though Philomel for Itys sing 670

Her sad, sweet notes in wakening spring;

Though Procne, with insistent din,

Bewail her husband's hidden sin; 675

Not these, with all their passionate lament,
Can voice the sorrows in thy bosom pent.

Let Cycnus raise his dying song,

And its soft, plaintive strains prolong;

Let Halcyon mourn her Ceyx brave, 680

A-flutter o'er the tossing wave;

Let priests of tower-crowned Cybele 685

Their tears for Attis share with thee:
Still would our tears in no such measure flow, 690

For sufferings like these no limits know.
[Cassandra lays aside her fillets.]
But why dost lay aside the sacred wool ?
VMost by the wretched should the gods be feared.
Cassandrai\But ills like mine o'erleap the hounds of fear. 695

I'll supplicate the heavenly gods no more,
For now am I beyond their power to harm,
And I have drained to dregs the cup of fate.
No country have I left, no sister, sire;

For tombs and altars have my blood consumed. 700

Where is that happy throng of brothers now ?
Departed all! And only weak old men
Remain within the lonely palace walls
To serve the wretched king; and these, alas,
Throughout those stately chambered halls behold,

404 T 111. Tragedies of Seneca

Save Spartan Helen, none but widowed wives.

And Hecuba, proud mother of a ran- 705

Of kings, herself the queen of Phrygia,

Fecund for funeral pyres, became the mock
/Of fickle fate; and now in bestial form,

Barks madly round the ruins of her home,

Surviving Troy, son, husband, and herself.
Band: Why falls this sudden silence on her? See, 710

\Hcr cheeks are pale, and fits of trembling fear

Possess her frame; her locks in horror rise,

And we can hear, though pent within her breast,

The loud pulsations of her fluttering heart.

Her glance uncertain wanders; and anon

Her eyes seem backward turned into herself, 715

Then fix again and harshly stare abroad.

Now higher than her wont she lifts her head

And walks with stately step; and now she strives

To open her reluctant lips. At last,

Though struggling still against th' inspiring god,
\The maddened priestess speaks with muttered words.
Cassandra: Why prick me on with fury's goads anew, 720

Ye sacred slopes of high Parnassus ? Why

>Tust I, insensate, prophesy afresh?

Away, thou prophet god ! I am not thine.

Subdue the fires that smoulder in my breast.

Whose doom yet waits my frenzied prophecy ?

Now Troy is fallen — must I still rave on, 725

And speak unheeded words ? Oh, where am I ?

The kindly light has fled, and deepest night

Enshrouds my face, and all the heavens lie wrapped

In deepest gloom. But see, with double sun,

The day shines forth again; and doubled homes

In doubled Argos seem to stand. Again

I see Mount Ida's groves. The shepherd sits 730

Amid those awful goddesses to judge

(Oh, fatal judgment!) twixt their rival charms.

Ye mighty kings, I warn ye, fear the fruit

Of stolen love; that rustic foundling soon

Shall overthrow- your house.

Agamemnon 405

Beware the .gusen !

Why does she madly in her woman's hand

Those naked weapons bear ? Whom does she seek 735

With brandished battle-ax, though Spartan bred,

(,Like some fierce warrior of the Amazons ?

What horrid vision next affronts mine eyes?

A mighty Afric lion, king of beasts,

Lies low, death -smitten by his cruel mate;

While at his mangled1 neck a low-born beast 740

Gnaws greedily.

Why do ye summon me,

Saved only of my house, ye kindred shades ?

I'll follow thee, my father, buried2 deep
^Beneath the stones of Troy; and thee, O prop

Of Phrygia, the terror of the Greeks,

I see, though not in brave and fair array,

As once thou cam'st, still flushing with the glow 745

Of burning ships; but with thy members torn

And foully mangled by the dragging thongs.

And thee, O Troi'lus, I follow too,

Alas, too quickly met with Peleus' son !

I see thy face, my poor Delphobus,

Past recognition scarred. Is this the gift

Of thy new wife ? 750

Ah me, 'tis sweet to go

Along the borders of the Stygian pool;

To see the savage hound of Tartarus,

The realms of greedy Dis, and Charon old,

Whose dusky skiff shall bear two royal souls

Across the murky Phlegethon today,

The vanquished and the vanquisher. Ye shades,

And thee, dread stream, by which the gods of heaven 755

Do swear their straightest oaths, I pray ye both:

Withdraw the curtain of your hidden realm,

That so yon shadowy throng of Phrygians

May look upon Mycenae's woes. Behold,
^Poor souls; the wheel of fortune backward turns.

See, see ! the squalid sisters come, 760

' Reading, vexalus. ' Reading, MA TroiA scpulle.

i

406 The Tragedies of Seneca

Tlu-ir bloody lashes brandishing,

And smoking torches half consumed.

A sickly pallor overspreads

Their bloated cheeks; and dusky robes

Of death begird their hollow loins.

I be gloomy night with fearsome cries 765

Resounds, and to my startled eyes

Oread sights appear: tlnre lie the bones

Of that huge giant, far outstretched,

Upon a slimy marsh's brink

All white and rotting. Now I see

That old man, wan with suffering,

Forget awhile the mocking waves, 770

Forget his burning thirst, to grieve

For this disaster hovering

About his house;

But Dardanus exults to see

His foeman's baleful destiny.
Band: Now has her rage prophetic spent itself, 775

And fall'n away; like some devoted bull,
Which sinks with tottering knees before the shrine
Beneath the sacrificial axe's stroke.
Let us support her ere she faint and fall.
But see, our Agamemnon comes at last
To greet his gods, with bay of victory crowned;
And, all in festal garb, with glad accord. 780

His consort welcomes her returning lord.

ACT IV

[Enter Agamemnon. He is met and greeted by his wife, who

returns into the palace.]

Agamemnon: At last in safety am I home returned.

Oh, hail, belovdd land ! I bring thee spoil
From many barbarous tribes; and Troy at length,
I So long the mistress of the haughty east, 785

Submits herself as suppliant to thee.
But see, Cassandra faints, and trembling falls
With nerveless form. Ye slaves with speed uplift her;
Revive her drooping spirits with the chill

Agamemnon 407

Of water on her face. Her languid eyes

Again behold the light of day. Arise,

Cassandra, and recall thy sluggish sense.

That shelter from our woes, so long desired, 790

Is here at last. This is a festal day.
Cassandra: Remember Ilium's festal day. 1H

Agamemnon: But come,

We'll kneel before the shrine.
Cassandra: Before the shrine

My father fell.
Agamemnon: We will together pray

In thankfulness to Jove.
Cassandra: Hercean Jove?

Agamemnon: Thou think'st of Ilium ?
Cassandra: And Priam too.

Agamemnon: This is not Troy. 795

Cassandra: Where a Helen is, is Troy.

Agamemnon: Fear not thy mistress, though in captive's bonds.
Cassandra: But freedom is at hand.
Agamemnon: Live on secure.

^Cassandra: I think that death is my security.
Agamemnon: For thee there's naught to fear.
Cassandra: But much for thee.

Agamemnon: What can a victor fear?
Cassandra: What least he fears.

Agamemnon: Keep her, ye faithful slaves, in careful guard, 800

Till she shall throw this mood of madness off,

Lest in unbridled rage she harm herself.

To thee, O father, who the blinding bolt

Dost hurl, at whose command the clouds disperse,

Who rul'st the starry heavens and the lands,

To whom triumphant victors bring their spoils;

And thee, O sister of thy mighty lord, 805

Argolic Juno, here I offer now

All fitting gifts — and so fulfil my vow.
[Exit into the palace.)
Chorus oj Argive women: O Argos, famed for thy worthy sons,
And dear to the jealous Juno's heart,
How mighty the children who feed at thy breast! 810

408 'Fur T B \ G E D I E S 0 P S E N E C A

Thou hast added a god to the ranks of immortals;
For Alt ides has won by liis labors heroic
The right to be named with the lords of the sky.
Abides the groat! at his birth were the laws
( >t' the universe broken; for Jove bade the night
Hi. To double the dew-laden hours of the darkness. 815

y. At liis command did the god of the sun

,\To a sluggish pace restrain his car;

I And slow of foot around their course,
O pale, white moon, thy horses paced.
He also checked his feet, the star,

Which hails the dawn, but glows as oft 820

In the evening sky; and he marveled that he
Should be called Hesperus. 'Tis said that Aurora
Roused to her wonted task, but again
Sank back to her sleep on the breast of Tithonus:
For long must the night be, and tardy the morning,
That waits for the birth of a hero divine. 825

The swift-whirling vault of the sky stood still
To greet thee, O youth to the heavens appointed.
Thy labors how many and mighty! Thy hand
Has the terrible lion of Nemea felt, 830

The fleet-footed hind, and the ravaging boar
That Arcadia feared. Loud bellowed the bull

When torn from the fields of Crete;
Thou didst conquer the Hydra, which fed on destruc-
tion, 835
And severed the last of its multiplied heads.
The dread giant, Geryon, three monsters in one,
Fell slain with one blow of thy crashing club;
But his oxen, the famous Hesperian herds,
Were driven away as the spoils of the east. 840
The terrible steeds of the Thracian king,
Which their master fed not on the grass of the Strymon,
Or the green banks of Hobrus (but, cruel and bloody,
With flesh of the hapless wayfarer he fed them), 845
These steeds did our Hercules take, and in vengeance,
As their last gory feast gave the flesh of their master.
The spoil of her girdle Hippolyte saw

A G A M I M N O N 409

A-gleam on her conqueror's breast.
The Stymphalian bird fell down from the clouds 850

By his arrows death-smitten,
And the tree which bears the fruit of gold
Feared his approach, but, despoiled of its treasures,
Lifted high in the air its burdenless branches.
Forth from the ravished grove he strode 855

With its golden fruit full laden; in vain
Did the deadly, sleepless dragon guard
Hear the sound of the musical metal.
By triple chains to the upper world

The hound of hell was meekly dragged; 860

His three great mouths in silence gaped,

Amazed by the light of day.
And, greatest of toils, beneath his might,
The lying house of Dardanus
Was overthrown, and felt the force
Of that dread bow which it was doomed
In far-off time to feel again.
Ten days sufficed for Troy's first overthrow; 865

As many years her second ruins know.

ACT V

Cassandra [alone upon the stage, standing where she can see the interior
0} the palace, describes what is going on there; or else she sees it by
clairvoyant power]:

Great deeds are done within, the cruel match

For ten long years of suffering at Troy.
Was, what do they there ? Arise, my soul,

/And take reward for thy mad prophecies.

The conquered Phrygians are victors now.

'Tis well! O Troy, thou risest from the dust, 870

For thou hast now to equal ruin brought

Mycenae too. Low lies thy conqueror.

« >h, ne'er before has my prophetic soul

So clearly seen the things of which it raved.

I see, and no false image cheats my sight,

I ee it plainly: there, within the hall. 875

A royal feast is spread, and thronged with guests,

410 The Tragedies of Seneca

Like that last fatal feast of ours at Troy.
The couches gleam with Trojan tapestries;
Their wine they quaff from rare old cups of gold
That once cheered greal Assaracus; and see,
^The king himself, in 'broidered vestment dad,
Sits high in triumph at the table's head, 880

With Priam's noble spoils upon his breast.
Now comes his queen and bids him put away
The garment which his enemy has worn,
And don instead the robe which she has made
With loving thoughts of him

Oh, horrid deed!
I shudder at the sight. Shall that base man,
That exile, smite a king ? the paramour
The husband slay ? The fatal hour has come. 885

The second course shall flow with royal bloody
And gory streams shall mingle with the wine.
And now the king has donned the deadly robe,
\ Which gives him bound and helpless to his fate.
His hands no outlet find; the clinging gown
Enwraps his head in dark and smothering folds.
With trembling hand the coward paramour 890

Now smites the king, but not with deadly wound;
For in mid stroke his nerveless hand is stayed.
But, as some shaggy boar in forest wilds,
Within the net's strong meshes caught, still strives
And strains to burst his bonds, yet all in vain:
So Agamemnon seeks to throw aside 895

The floating, blinding folds. In vain; and yet,
Though blind and bound, he seeks his enemy.
Now frenzied Clytemnestra snatches up
A two-edged battle-ax; and, as the priest,
Before he smites the sacrificial bull,
Marks well the spot and meditates his aim:
So she her impious weapon balances. 900

He has the blow. 'Tis done. The severed head
Hangs loosely down, and floods the trunk with gore.
Nor do they even yet their weapons stay:
The base-born wretch hacks at the lifeless corpse,

A'gamemnon 411

While she, his mate, pursues her bloody task. 905

So each responds to each in infamy.

Thyestes' son in very truth is he,

While she to Helen proves her sisterhood.

The sun stands doubtful on the edge of day;

Shall he go on or backward bend his way ?
[Remains beside the altar.]

[Enter Electra, leading her little brother, Orestes.]
Electra: Flee, sole avenger of my father's death, 910

Oh, flee, and shun these impious butchers' hands.

Our royal house is utterly o'erthrown,

Our kingdom gone.

But see, a stranger comes,

His horses driven to their utmost speed;

Come, brother, hide thyself beneath my robe.
I But, O my foolish heart, whom dost thou fear ? 915

A stranger ? Nay, thy foes are here at home.

Put off thy fears, for close at hand I see

The timely shelter of a faithful friend.
[Enter Strophius in a chariot, accompanied by his son Pylades.]
Strophius: I, Strophius, had left my Phocian realm,

And now, illustrious with th' Olympic palm,

I home return. My hither course is bent

To 'gratulate my friend, by whose assault 920

Has Ilium fallen after years of war.
[Noticing Electra's distress.]

But why these flowing tears and looks of woe ?
\ And why these marks of fear ? I recognize

In thee the royal house. Electra ! Why,

When all is joyful here, dost thou lament ?
Electra: My father lies within the palace, slain 925

By Clytemnestra's hand. His son is doomed

To share his father's death. Aegisthus holds

The throne which he through guilty love has gained.
Strophius: Oh, happiness that never long endures!
Electra: By all thy kindly memories of my sire,

By his proud scepter, known to all the earth, 930

And by the fickle gods, I pray thee take

My brother hence, and hide him from his foes.

4ia The Tragedies of Seneca

Stropliius: (Although dead Agamemnon bitls me fear,

I'll brave the danger and thy 1 neither save.

Good fortune asks for faith; adversity

Compels us to be true.

[Takes Orestes into the < hariol.]
My lad, attend:

Wear this wild-olive wreath upon thy brow, 935

The noble prize I won on Pisa's plain;

And hold above thy head this leafy branch,

The palm of victory, that it may be

A shield and omen of success to thee.

And do thou too, O Pylades, my son, 940

Who dost as comrade guide thy father's car,

From my example faith in friendship learn.

Do you, swift steeds, before the eyes of Greece

Speed on in flight, and leave this faithless land.
[Exeunt at great speed.]
Electra [looking ajter them]: So is he gone. His car at reckless pace

Fast vanishes from sight. And now my foes, 945

. With heart released from care, will I await,
1 And willingly submit my head to death.

Here comes the bloody conqueror of her lord,

And bears upon her robes the stains of blood.

Her hands still reek with gore, and in her face

She bears the witness of her impious crime. 950

I'll hie me to the shrine; and, kneeling here,

I'll join Cassandra in our common fear.
[Enter Clytemnestra, jresh from the murder oj her husband.]
Clytemnestra [to Electra]: Thou base, unfilial, and fro ward girl,

Thy mother's foe, by what authority

Dost thou, a virgin, seek the public gaze ?
Electra: Because I am a virgin have I left 955

The tainted home of vile adulterers.
Clytemnestra: Who would believe thee chaste ?
Electra: I am thy child.

Clytemnestra: Thou shouldst thy mother speak with gentler tongue.
Electra: Shall I learn filial piety of thee ?
Clytemnestra: Thou hast a mannish soul, too puffed with pride;

But tamed by suffering thou soon shalt learn

Agamemnon 413

To play a woman's part.
Electra: A woman's part!

Yea, truly, 'tis to wield the battle-ax. 960

Clytemnestra: Thou fool, dost think thyself a match for us?
Electra: "For us ?" Hast thou another husband then ?

Speak thou as widow, for thy lord is dead.
Clytemnestra: As queen I soon shall curb thy saucy tongue,

And break thy pride. But meanwhile quickly tell, 965

Where is my son, where is thy brother hid ?
Eleclra: Far from Mycenae fled.

Clytemnestra: Then bring him back.

Electra: Bring hark my father too.
Clytemnestra: 'Where lurks the boy?

Electra: In safety, where he fears no rival's power.

This will content a loving mother.
Clytemnestra: Yes,

But not an angry one. Thou diest today. 970

Eleclra: Oh, let me perish by thy practiced hand !

Ik-hold, I leave the altar's sheltering side;

Wilt plunge the knife into my tender throat ?

I yield me to thy will. Or dost prefer

At one fell stroke to smite away my head ?

My neck awaits thy deadly aim. Let crime 975

By other crime be purged. Thy hands are stained

And reeking with thy murdered husband's blood:

Come, cleanse them in the fresher stream of mine.
[Enter Aegisthus.]
Clytemnestra: Thou partner of my perils and my throne,

Aegisthus, come; this most unnatural child

Assails her mother and her brother hides. 980

Aegisthus: ■(Thou mad and foolish girl, restrain thy tongue,

For such wild words offend thy mother's ears.
Electra: Thou arch contriver of most impious crime,

Wilt thou admonish me ? Thou base-born wretch,

Thou sister's son, and grandson of thy sire! '985

Clytemnestra: Aegisthus, how canst thou restrain thy hand

From smiting off her head ? But hear my word:

Let her give up her brother or her life.
Aegisthus: Nay, rather, in some dark and stony cell

414 The Tragedies of Seneca

Let her be straight confined; and there, perchance,

By cruel tortures racked, will sin- give up 990

Whom now she hides. Resouroeless, starving there,

In dunk and loathsome solitude immured,

Widowed, ere wedded, exiled, scorned of all —

Then will she, though too late, to fortune yield.
Elcctra: |Oh, grant me death.
I- ristkus: If thou shouldst plead for life,

I'd grant thee death. A foolish ruler he, 995

Who balances by death the score of sin.
Ekdro: Can any punishment be worse than death ?
Aegisthus: Yes! Life for those who wish to die. Away,

Ye slaves, seek out some dark and lonely cave,

Far from Mycenae's bounds; and there in chains,

Confine this bold, unmanageable maid,

If haply prison walls may curb her will. 1000

[Electra w led away.]
Clytcmnestra [indicating Cassandra]: But she shall die, that rival of my
couch,

That captive bride. Go, drag her hence at once,

That she may follow him she stole from me.
Cassandra: Nay, drag me not; for I with joy will go,

Outstripping your desire. How eagerly

I hasten to my Phrygians, to tell 1005

The news: the ocean covered with the wrecks

Of Argive ships; Mycenae overthrown;

The leader of a thousand leaders slain

(And thus atoning for the woes of Troy)

By woman's gift of wantonness and guile.

Make haste! I falter not, but thank the gods, 1010

That I have lived to see my land avenged.
Clylemnestra: O maddened wretch, thy death I wait to see.
Cassandra: A fateful madness waits as well for thee.

OCTAVIA

OCTAVIA
A FABULA PRAETEXTA
THE ONLY EXTANT ROMAN HISTORICAL DRAMA

INTRODUCTION

The Roman historical drama had a place among the earliest products
of Roman literature, and seems to have enjoyed a degree of popularity
through all succeeding periods. That Roman literary genius did not
find a much fuller expression through this channel was not due to a lack
of national pride and patriotism, nor yet to a dearth of interesting and
inspiring subjects in Roman history. The true reason is probably to be
found in the fact that by the time national conditions were ripe for the devel-
opment of any form of literature, the Greeks had already worked, and
well worked, nearly all available fields, and had produced a mass of litera-
ture which dazzled the Roman mind when at last circumstances brought
these two nations into closer contact.

The natural and immediate result was an attempt on the part
of the Romans to imitate these great models. And hence we have in
drama, both in tragedy and comedy, a wholesale imitation of the Greek
dramas, oftentimes nothing more than a translation of these, with only
here and there an attempt to produce something of a strictly native char-
acter, entirely independent of the Greek influence.

This imitative impulse was augmented by the fact that the Romans
were followingjhf l'nf> "f l«-n«>t resistance, since it is always easier to imitate
than to create. Furthermore, they had as yet developed no national
pride of literature to hold them to their own lines of national development;
they had no forms of their own so well established that the mere force of
literary momentum would carry them steadily on toward a fuller devel-
opment, in spite of the disturbing influences of the influx of other and better
models. They had, indeed, developed a native Saturnian verse which,
had it been allowed a free field, might have reached a high pitch of literary
excellence. But it speedily gave way at the approach of the more elegant
imported forms.

The overwhelming influence of Greek tragedy upon the Roman drama-
tists can be seen at a glance as we review the dramatic product of the

4i7

4i8 The Tragedies of Seneca

Roman tragedians. We have titles and fragments of nine tragedies by

I.ivius Andronicus, seven by Naevius, twenty two by Knnius, thirteen by
Pacuvius, forty six by Accius, and many unassignable fragments from
each of these which indicate numerous other plays of the same character.

To these should be added scattering additions from nearly a score
more of Roman writers during the next two hundred years after
Accius. All the above-mentioned plays are on Greek subjects; and most
of those whose fragments are sufficiently extensive to allow us to form an
opinion of their character are either translations or close imitations of the
( i reeks, or are so intluenced by these as to be decidedly Greek rather than
Roman in character.

And what of the genuine Roman dramatic product ? Speaking for the
jabula pradexta, or Roman historical drama, alone, the entire output, so
far as our records go, is contained in the following list of authors and titles.

From Naevius (265-204 B. c.) we have the Clastidium, written in
celebration of the victory of Marcellus over Vidumarus, king of the Trans-
padane Gauls, whom Marcellus slew and stripped of his armor, thus
gaining the rare spolia opima; this at Clastidium in 222 B. c. The
play was probably written for the especial occasion either of the triumph
of Marcellus or of the celebration of his funeral.

We have also from Naevius a play variously entitled Lupus or Romulus
or Alimomum Remi et Romuli, evidently one of those dramatic reproduc-
tions of scenes in the life of a god, enacted as a part of the ceremonies of his
worship. These are comparable to similar dramatic representations
among the Greeks in the worship of Dionysus.

The Ambracia and the Sabinae of Ennius (239-169 B. c.) are ordinarily
classed as jabulae praelextae, although Lucian Miiller classes the fragments
of the Ambracia among the Saturae of Ennius; while Vahlen puts the
Ambracia under the heading Comoediarum et celerorum carminum reliquiae,
and classifies the fragments of the Sabinae under ex incertis saturarum
libris. The Ambracia is evidently called after the city of that name in
Epirus, celebrated for the long and remarkable siege which it sustained
against the Romans under M. Fulvius Nobilior. That general finally
captured the city in 189 b. c. If the piece is to be considered as a play,
it wras, like the Clastidium, written in honor of a Roman general, and
acted on the occasion either of his triumph or of his funeral.

W7e have four short fragments from the Paulus of Pacuvius (220-130
b. a), written in celebration of the exploits of L. Aemilius Paulus who
conquered Perseus, king of Macedonia, in the battle of Pydna, 168 B. c.

OCTAVIA 419

The fragments of the plays already mentioned are too brief to afford
any adequate idea of the character or content of the plays. But in the
Brutus of Accius (b. 170 b. c), which centers around the expulsion of the
Tarquins and the establishment of the Republic, we have a larger glimpse
into the play through two most interesting fragments consisting of twelve
iambic trimeters and ten trochaic tetrameters, respectively. In the first,
King Tarquin relates to his seer an ill-ominous dream which he has had;
the second is the seer's interpretation of this dream, pointing to Tarquin's
dethronement by Brutus. Other short fragments give glimpses of the out-
rage of Lucretia by Sextus at Collatia, and the scene in the forum where
Brutus takes his oath of office as first consul. This play, unlike its prede-
cessors, was not written at the time of the events which it portrays, but
may still be classed with them, so far as its object is concerned, since it is
generally thought to have been written in honor of D. Junius Brutus who
was consul in 138 B. c, and with whom the poet enjoyed an intimate
friendship.

Another practrxta of Accius is preserved, the Deems, of which eleven
short fragments remain. This play celebrates the victory of Quintus
Fabius Maximus and P. Decius Mus over the Samnites and Gauls at
Sentinum in 295 B. c. The climax of the play would be the self-immola-
tion of Decius after the example of his father in the Latin war of 340 B. c.

In addition to these plays of the Roman dramatists of the Republic, we
have knowledge of a few which date from later times. There was a
historical drama entitled Iter, by L. Cornelius Balbus, who dramatized
the incidents of a journey which he made to Pompey's camp at Dyrrachium
at the opening of civil war in 49 B. c. Balbus was under commission from
Caesar to treat with the consul, L. Cornelius Lentulus, and other optimates
who had fled from Rome, concerning their return to the city. The journey
was a complete fiasco, so far as results were concerned; but the vanity of
Balbus was so flattered by his (to him) important mission that he must
needs dramatize his experiences and present the play under his own direc-
tion in his native city of Gades.

We have mention also of an Aeneas by Pomponius Secundus, and of
two praetextae by Curiatius Maternus, entitled Domitius and Cato.

These eleven historical plays are, as we have seen, for the most part,
plays of occasion, and would be at best of but temporary interest, born of
the special circumstances which inspired them. They are in no way com-
parable with such historical dramas on Roman subjects as Shakespeare V
Julius Caesar or Coriolauus, whose interest is for all times.

4^o Tim Tragedies of S E N E C A

We have .--till a twelfth play of this class, which enjoys the unique dis-
tinction of being the only Roman historical drama which has come clown
'to us — the Octavia. Its authorship is unknown, although tradition gives
it a place among the tragedies of Seneca, the philosopher. The general
opinion of modern critics, however, is against this tradition, chiefly because
one passage in the play, in the form of a prophecy, too circumstantially
describes the death of Nero, which occurred three years after the death
of Seneca. It is generally agreed that the play must have been written
soon after the death of Nero, and by some one, possibly Matcrnus, who
had been an eye-witness of the events, and who had been inspired by his
sympathies for the unfortunate Octavia to write this story of her sufferings.

OCTAVIA

DRAMATIS PERSONAE
Octavia . .Stepsister and wife of Nero.
Nurse . . .of Octavia.

Poppaea . . Mistress and afterward wife of Nero.
Ghost oj Agrippina Mother of Nero, slain by him.
Nero . . . Emperor of Rome.

Seneca . . .Former tutor of Nero, and later one of his chief counselors.
Prefect oj Roman Soldiers.
Messenger.

Chorus oj Romans Sympathetic with Octavia.
Chorus . . .Attached to the interests of the court.

The scene is laid throughout in different apartments of the palace of
I Nero, and is concerned with the events of the year 62 A. D.

ACT I

Octavia: Xow doth the flushing dawn from heaven drive

The wandering stars; the sun mounts into sight
.With radiant beams, and brings the world once more
.The light of day. Up, then, my heavy soul,

With grievous cares o'erburdened, and resume 5

Thy woe; out-wail the sea -bred Halcyons,

And those sad birds of old Pandion's house;

For this thy lot is heavier far than theirs.

O mother, constant source of tears to me, 10

Hear now thy woeful daughter's sad complaints,

If aught of sense remains among the shades.

Oh, that the grizzly Clotho long ago,

With her own hand had dipt my thread of life! 15

Through blinding tears I saw thy bleeding wounds,

Thy features sprinkled with defiling blood.

Oh, light of day, abhorrent to my eyes!

From that dread hour I hate the day's pure light 20

More than the night's dark gloom; for daily now

Must I endure a cruel stepdame's rule,

Must daily bear her hateful looks and words.

She, she the baleful fury fiend it was

Who at my marriage rites bore torches lit 25

With hellish fires; 'twas she who wrought thy death,

O wretched father, whom but yesterday

The whole world owned as lord on land and sea;

To whom the Britain bowed, though ne'er before

Had he a Roman master known or owned. 30

Alas, my father, by thy wife's fell plots

Thou liest low, and I and all thy house
\ Like captives groan beneath the tyrant's sway.
[Exit in her chamber.]
Nurse [entering]: Who stands in wonder, smitten by the gloss 35

And splendor of a princely court, amazed

At sight of easy -won prosperity,

(Let him behold how, at the stroke of fate,

1'

423

424 The Tragedies 01 Seneca

The bouse of Claudius is overthrown,

To whose control the world was subjugate, 40

Whose rule an ocean, long to sway unknown,

t Ibeyed, and bore our ships with subject will.

I .•>. he, who first the savage Britains curbed,

And filled an unknown OOSan with his Beet,

And passed in safety 'mid barbaric tribes— r

By his own wife's impiety was slain. 45

And she is destined by her son to fall,

Whose hapless brother lies already slain

By jxnson's hand, whose sister-wife alone
t Is left to mourn. Nor may she hide her grief,

By bitter wrath impelled to speak. She shuns

Her cruel lord's society, and, fired 50

With equal hate, with mutual1 loathing burns.

Our pious faithfulness in vain consoles

Her grieving heart; her cruel woes reject
[ Our aid; the noble passion of her soul

Will not be ruled, but grows on ills renewed.

Alas, my fears forebode some desperate deed, 55

Which may the gods forbid !
Octavia [heard speaking from within her chamber]: O fate of mine,
that can no equal know !

Thy woes, Electra, were no match for these;
^For thou couldst soothe with tears the grief thou hadst 60

For thy dear father's fall; thou couldst avenge

The murder by thy brother's ready hand,

Who by thy piety was saved from death,

And whom thy faith concealed. But me base fear

•orbids to weep my parents reft away 65

Jy cruel fate; forbids to weep the death

Of him, my brother, who my sole hope was,

My fleeting comfort of so many woes.

And now, surviving but to suffer still,

I live, the shadow of a noble name. 70

Nurse: Behold, the voice of my sad foster-child

\ Falls on my list'ning ears. Slow steps of age,

Why haste ye not within her chamber there ?

• Reading, mariti muiua.

l;

O CT A VI A

425

Nurse:

Octavia:

Nurse:

Octaina:

Nurse:

Octavia:

[Starts to enter the chamber, but is met by Octavia coming jorlh.]
Octavia: Within thy bosom let me weep, dear nurse,

I Thou ever trusty witness of my grief. 75

What day shall free thee from thy woes, poor child ?

The day that sends me to the Stygian shades.

May heaven keep such dark omens far away ! 80

^ 'Tis not thy prayers, but fate that shapes my life.

But God will brin<j thy life to better days.

Do thou but be appeased, and win thy lord

With mild obedience. 85

I'll sooner tame
_The savage lion's heart, the tiger's rage,
j Than curb that brutal tyrant's cruel soul.

He hates all sons of noble blood, and gods

And men he sets at naught; nor can he bear 90

That high estate to which along the paths

Of shameful crime his impious mother led;

For though it shames him now, ungrateful one,

To hold the scepter which his mother gave;

And though by death he has requited her: 95

Still will the glory of the empire won

Belong to her for centuries to come.

Restrain these words that voice thy raging heart,
1 And check thy tongue's too rash and thoughtless speech.

Though I should bear what may be borne, my woes, 100

Save by a cruel death, could not be ended.
" For, since my mother was by murder slain,

And my father taken off by crime most foul,

Robbed of my brother, overwhelmed with woe,

Oppressed with sadness, by my husband scorned,

Degraded to the level of my slave, 105

I find this life no more endurable.

My heart doth tremble, not with fear of death,

'But slander base, employed to work my death.

Far from my name and fate be that foul blot.

For death itself — Oh, 'twould be sweet to die;

For 'tis a punishment far worse than death,

To live in contact with the man I loathe,

To see the tyrant's face all passion puffed, no

Xurse:

Octavia:

426 The Tragedies or Skneca

And fierce with rage, to kiss my deadliest foe.
That I should fear bis nod, obey his will,
M\ grief, resentful, will not suffer me,
Since by his hand my brother was destroyed,

Whose kingdom he usurps, and boasts himself
The author of that shameful deed/ How oft 115

Before my eyes does that sad image come,
My brother's ghost, when I have gone to rest,
I And sleep has closed my eyelids faint with tears!
Now in his weakling hand lie brandishes
The smoking torch, and violently assails
His brother to his face; now, trembling sore,
He flees for refuge to my sheltering arms. 120

His foe pursues, and, as his victim clings
Convulsively to me, he thrusts his sword
With murderous intent through both our sides.
Then, all a-tremble, do I start awake,
And in my waking sense renew my fear.

Add to these cares a rival, arrogant, 125

Who queens it in the spoils of this our house;
At whose behest the mother was enticed
To that fell ship which should have carried her
To Orcus' depths; but when o'er ocean's waves
She triumphed, he, than ocean's waves more harsh
And pitiless, despatched her with the sword.
Amid such deeds, what hopes of peace have I ? 130

O'erblown with hate, triumphant, doth my rival
Within my very chamber's hold defy me;
With deadly malice doth she blaze against me,
And as the price of her adulterous sweets,
Doth she demand that he, my husband, give
My life, his lawful wife's, in sacrifice.
Oh, rise thou, father, from the gloomy shades,
. And help thy daughter who invokes thine aid; 135

•) Or else cleave wide the earth to Stygian depths,
And let me plunge at last to shelter there.
Nurse: In vain dost thou invoke thy father's soul,

Poor child, in vain; for there among the shades
He little thinks upon his offspring here;

Oct a vi a 427

Who, when in life, unto his own true son

Preferred the offspring of another's blood, 140

And to himself in most incestuous bonds

And rites unhallowed joined his brother's child.
^From this foul source beta flowed a stream of crime:
''Of murder, treachery, the lust of power,

The thirst for blood. Thy promised husband fell,

A victim slain to grace that wedding feast, 145

Lest, joined with thee, he should too mighty grow.

Oh, monstrous deed ! Silanus, charged with crime,

Was slain to make a bridal offering,
^ And stained the household gods with guiltless blood.

And then this alien comes, Oh, woe is me, 150

And by his mother's wiles usurps the house,

Made son-indaw and son to the emperor,
) A youth of temper most unnatural,
[To impious crime inclined, whose passion's flame

His mother fanned, and forced thee at the last

In hated wedlock into his embrace.

Emboldened by this notable success, 155

She dared to dream of wider sovereignty.

What tongue can tell the changing forms of crime,

Her impious hopes, her cozening treacheries,

Who seeks the throne along the ways of sin ?

Then Piety with trembling haste withdrew, 160

And Fury through the empty palace halls

With baleful tread resounded, and defiled

The sacred imams with Stygian brands.
.All holy laws of nature and of heaven
\n mad abandon did she set at naught.

She mingled deadly poison for her lord, 765

And she herself by the impious mandate fell

Of her own son. Thou too dost lifeless lie,

Poor youth, forever to be mourned by us,

Ill-starred Britannicus, so late, in life.

The brightest star of this our firmament,

The prop and stay of our imperial house;

But now, Oh, woe is me, a heap of dust,

Of unsubstantial dust, a flitting shade. 170

■J-'s

The Tragedies of Seneca

Nay, even thy stepmother's cruel cheeks
Were wet with tears, when 00 the funeral ]>vrc
She placed thy form and saw the flames consume
Thy limbs ami face fair as the winded god's.

Octavia: Me, t<»>, he DQUSl destroy — or fall by me.

Nurse: But nature has not given thee strength to slay. 175

Octavia: Yet anguish, anger, pain, distress of soul.
The ecstasy of grief will give me strength.

Nurse: Nay, by compliance, rather, win thy lord.

Octavia: That thus he may restore my brother slain ?

Xitrsc: That thou thyself mayst go unscathed of death;
That thou by thine own offspring mayst restore
Thy father's falling house. 180

Octavia: This princely house

Expects an heir, 'tis true; but not from me,
^ For I am doomed to meet my brother's fate.

Nurse: Console thy heart with this, that thou art dear
Unto the populace, who love thee well.

Octavia: iThat thought doth soothe, but cannot cure my grief.

Xurse: Their power availeth much. 185

Octavia: The prince's more.

Nurse: He will regard his wife.

Octavia: My foe forbids.

Nurse: But she is scorned by all.

Octavia: Yet loved by him.

Nurse: She is not yet his wife.

Octavia: But soon will be,

And mother of his child, his kingdom's heir.

Xurse: } The fire of youthful passion glows at first

With heat impetuous; but soon abates, 190

And vanishes like flickering tongues of flame.

Unhallowed love cannot for long endure;

But pure and lasting is the love inspired

By chaste and wifely faith. She who has dared

To violate thy bed, and hold so long

Thy husband's heart in thrall, herself a slave,

Already trembles lest his fickle love 195

Shall thrust her forth and set a rival there.

Subdued and humble, even now she shows

O C T A V I A 429

I I.iw deep and real her fear; for her, indeed,

Shall wingc'd Cupid, false and fickle god,

Abandon and betray. Though face and form

Be passing fair, though beauty vaunt herself,

And boast her j>ower, still arc her triumphs brief, 200

Her joys a passing dream.

Nay, Juno's self,
Though queen of heaven, endured such grief as thine,
When he, her lord, and father of the gods,
Stole from her side to seek in mortal forms
The love of mortal maids. Now, in his need, 205

He dons the snowy plumage of a swan;
Now horned seems, like a Sidonian bull;
And now a glorious, golden shower he falls,
And rests within the arms of Danae.
Nor yet is Juno's sum of woe complete:
The sons of Leda glitter in the sky
In starry splendor; Bacchus proudly stands
Beside his father on Olympus' height;
j Divine Alcides hath to Hebe's charms 210

i Attained, and fears stern Juno's wrath no more.
Her very son-indaw hath he become
Whom once she hated most. Yet in her heart
^Deep down she pressed her grief, and wisely won,
By mild compliance to his wayward will,

Her husband's love again. And now the queen, 215

Secure at last from rivalry, holds sway
Alone, within the Thunderer's heart. No more,
By mortal beauty smitten, does he leave
His royal chambers in the vaulted sky.

Thou, too, on earth, another Juno art, 220

The wife and sister of our mighty lord.
Then be thou wise as she, make show of love,
And hide thy crushing sorrows witli a smile.
Octavia: The savage seas shall sooner mate with stars,
And fire with water, heav'n with gloomy hell,
Glad light with shades, and day witli dewy night,
Than shall my soul in amity consort 225

With his black heart, most foul and impious:

4,;o T ii i T b \ g i i' i i". s or Sen e c a

Too mindful I <>f my poor brother's ghost.

And oh, that he who guides the heavenly worlds,

Who shakes the realms <>f earth with deadly Mts,

Ami with his dreadful thunders awes our minds,

Would wl elm in fury death this murderous prince. 230

Strange portents have we seen: the comet dire,

Shining with baleful light, his glowing train

Far gleaming in the distant northern sky,

Where slow Hootes, numb with arctic frosts,

Directs his jxmdcrous wagon's endless rounds.

The very air is tainted by the breath 235

Of this destructive prince; and for his sake

The stars, resentful, threaten to destroy

The nations which so dire a tyrant rules.

Not such a pest was impious Typhon huge,

Whom earth, in wrath and scorn of heaven, produced.

This scourge is more destructive far than he. 240

He is the bitter foe of gods and men,

Who drives the heavenly beings from their shrines,

And from their native land the citizens;

W7ho from his brother took the breath of life,

And drained his mother's blood.

And does he live,

This guilty wretch, and draw his tainted breath ?

O Jove, thou high -exalted father, why 245

Dost thou so oft with thine imperial hand

Thy darts invincible at random hurl ?

Why from his guilty head dost thou withhold

Thy hand of vengeance ? Oh, that he might pay

For all his crimes the fitting penalty,

This son of deified Domitius,
'This Nero, heartless tyrant of the world, 250

Which he beneath the yoke of bondage holds,

This moral blot upon a noble name!
Nurse: Unworthy he to be thy mate, I know;

[But, dearest child, to fate and fortune yield,

Lest thou excite thy savage husband's wrath.

Perchance some god will come to right thy wrongs, 255

And on thy life some happier day will dawn.

O C T A VI A 4^1

Octavia: That may not be. Long since, our ill-starred house
Has groaned beneath the heavy wrath of heaven.
That wrath at first my hapless mother felt,
Whom Venus cursed with lust insatiate;

For she, with heedless, impious passion fired, 260

Unmindful of her absent lord, of us,
Her guiltless children, and the law's restraints,
In open day another husband wed.
To that fell couch avenging Fury came
With streaming locks and serpents intertwined,
Ami quenched those stolen wedding fires in blood.
For with destructive rage, on murder bent, 265

She fired the prince's heart; and at his word,
Ah, woe is me, my ill-starred mother fell,
(And, dying, doomed me to perpetual grief.
For after her in quick succession came
Her husband and her son; and this our house,
Already falling, was to ruin plunged.

Xurse: ^Forbear with pious tears to renew thy grief, 270

1 And do not so disturb thy father's shade,
Who for his rage has bitterly atoned.

Chorus [sympathetic with Octavia]: False prove the rumor that of late
To our ears has come! May its vaunted threats
Fall fruitless out and of no avail! 275

May no new wife invade the bed
Of our royal prince; may Octavia, born
Of the Claudian race, maintain her right
And bear us a son, the pledge of peace,
In which the joyful world shall rest, 280

And Rome preserve her glorious name.
Most mighty Juno holds the lot
By fate assigned — her brother's mate;
But this our Juno, sister, wife

Of our august prince, why is she driven 285

From her father's court ? Of what avail
Her faith, her father deified,
Her love and spotless chastity ?
We, too, of our former master's fame

43a The Tragedies of Seneca

Have been unmindful, and his child

At the best <>f cringing1 fear betrayed. 290

Not so of old: then Rome could boast

1 >f manly \ irtuc, martial blood.

There lived a race of heroes then
Who curbed the power of haughty kings
And drove them forth from Rome; and thee,
O maiden, slain by thy father's hand, 295

Lest thou shouldst in slavery's bonds be held,
And lest foul lust its victorious will
Should work on thee, did well avenge.
Thee, too, a bloody war avenged,

( ) chaste Lucretia; for thou, 300

By the lust of an impious tyrant stained,
With wretched hand didst seek to cleanse
Those stains by thy innocent blood.
Then Tullia with her guilty lord,
Base Tarquin, dared an impious deed,
Whose penalty they paid; for she 305

Over the limbs of her murdered sire,
A heartless child, drove cruel wheels,
And left his corpse unburied there.
Such deeds of dire impiety
Our age has known, our eyes have seen,
^When the prince on the mighty Tyrrhene deep 310

In a fatal bark his mother sent,
By guile ensnared.
The sailors at his bidding haste
To leave the peaceful harbor's arms;

And soon the rougher waves resound 315

Beneath their oars, and far away
Upon the deep the vessel glides;
When suddenly the reeling bark
With loosened beams yawns open wide,
And drinks the briny sea.

A mighty shout to heaven goes, 320

With women's lamentations filled,
And death stalks dire before the eyes

1 Reading, sano.

O C T A VI A

433

Of all. Each seeks to save himself.

Some naked cling upon the planks

Of the broken ship and fight the floods, 325

While others swimming seek the shore.

.But most, alas! a watery death

By fate awaits. Then did the queen

In mad despair her garments rend;

Her comely locks she tore, and tears

Fell streaming down her grieving cheeks. 330

At last, with hope of safety gone,

With wrath inflamed, by woes o'ercome,
" I tost thou, O s<>n, make this return,"

She cried, "for that great boon I gave?

Such death I merit, I confess, 335

Who bore such monstrous child as thou,

Who gave to dice the light of day,

And in my madness raised thee high

To Caesar's name and Caesar's throne.
<|Oh, rise from deepest Acheron,

My murdered husband, feast thine eyes 340

Upon my righteous punishment;

For I brought death to thee, poor soul,

And to thy son. See, see, I come,

Deep down to meet thy grieving shade;

And there, as I have merited,

Shall I unburicd lie, o'erwhelnud 345

By the raging sea." E'en as she spoke,

The lapping waves broke o'er her lips,

And deep she plunged below. Anon

She rises from the briny depths,

d, stung by bar of death, she strives

With frenzied hands to conquer fate;

But, spent with fruitless toil at last, 350

yields and waits the end. But lo,

In hearts which in trembling silence watch,

I aith triumphs over deadly fear,

And to their mistress, spent and wan

With fruitless bufferings, they dan'

To lend their aid with cheering words 355

.»;» The Tragedies of Seneca

•

And helping bands.

But what avails

VTo escape the grasp of the savage sea ?

Bj the sword of the son is she doomed to die,

Whose monstrous <\w<\ posterity

Will scarce believe. With rage and grief 360

Inflamed, he raves that still she lives,
"jHis mother, snatched from the wild sea's jaws,

And doubles crime on impious crime.

Bent on his wretched mother's death,

1 le brooks no tarrying of fate. 365

His willing creatures work his will,

And in the hapless woman's breast

The fatal sword is plunged; but she

(To that fell minister of death

Appeals with dying tongue: "Nay here,

Here rather strike the murderous blow,

Here sheathe thy sword, deep in the womb 370

Which such a monster bore."

So spake the dying queen, her words

And groans commingling. So at last

Through gaping wounds her spirit fled 375

yln grief and agony.

ACT II

Seneca [alone]:\Why hast thou, potent Fate, with flattering looks,
Exalted me, contented with my lot,
That so from this great height I might descend
With heavier fall, and wider prospect see 380

Of deadly fears ? Ah, better was I, hid
Far from the stinging lash of envy's tongue,
Amid the lonely crags of Corsica.
There was my spirit free to act at will,
Was master of itself, had time to think
And meditate at length each favorite theme.
Oh, what delight, than which none greater is, 385

Of all that mother nature hath produced,
To watch the heavens, the bright sun's sacred rounds,
The heavenly movements and the changing night,

O C T A V I a 435

The moon's full orb with wandering stars begirt,
The far-effulgent glory of the sky! 390

I And is it growing old, this structure vast,
Doomed to return to groping nothingness?
"Then must that final doomsday be at hand,
That shall by heaven's fall o'erwhelm a race
So impious, that thus the world may see

A newer race of men, a better stock, 395

Which once the golden reign of Saturn knew.

)Then virgin Justice, holy child of heaven,
In mercy ruled the world; the race of men
Knew naught of war, the trumpet's savage blare, 400

The clang of arms; not yet were cities hedged
With ponderous walls; the way was free to all,
And free to all the use of everything.

The earth, unfilled, spread wide her fertile lap, 405

The happy mother of a pious stock.
Then rose another race of sterner mold;
Another yet to curious arts inclined,
But pious still; a fourth of restless mood,
Which lusted to pursue the savage beasts, 410

To draw the fishes from their sheltering waves
With net or slender pole, to snare the birds,
To force the headstrong bullocks to endure
The bondage of the yoke, to plow the earth
vW'hich never yet had felt the share's deep wound,
[And which in pain and grief now hid her fruits
Within her sacred bosom's safer hold. 415

Now deep within the bowels of the earth
Did that debased, unfilial age intrude;
And thence it dug the deadly iron and gold,
And soon it armed its savage hands for war.
It fixed the bounds of realms, constructed towns, 420

Fought for its own abodes, or threat'ning strove
To plunder those of 1 thcrs as a prize.
Then did abandoned Justice, heavenly maid,
In terror flee the earth, the bestial ways
Of men, their hands with bloody slaughter stained,
And, fixed in heaven, now shines among the stars. 425

436

The Tragedies of Seneca

"

Nero [to

Prefect:

Seneca:
Nero:
Seneca:
Nero:
Seneca:
Nero:
Seneca:
Nero:
Seneca:
Nero:
Seneca:
Nero:
Seneca:
>\t.'?Nero:
Seneca:

Then lust of war increased, and greed for gold,
Throughout the world; and luxury arose,

That deadliest of evils, luring pest,

To whose fell |x>\\rrs new strength and force were given

By custom long observed, and precedent

( >f evil into worser evil led.

This flood of vice, through many ages dammed, 430

In ours has hurst its l>ounds and overflowed.

By this dire age we're fairly overwhelmed —

An age when crime sits regnant on the throne,

Impiety stalks raging, unrestrained;

Foul lust, with all unbridled power, is queen,

And luxury long since with greedy hands

Has snatched the boundless riches of the world, 435

That she with equal greed may squander them.

[Enter Nero, followed by a Prefect.]
But see, with frenzied step and savage mien,
The prince approaches. How I fear his will.
Prefect]: Speed my commands: send forth a messenger
Who straight shall bring me here the severed heads
Of Plautus and of Sulla.

Good, my lord;
Without delay I'll speed me to the camp.

[Exit.]
One should not rashly judge against his friends. 44°

-Let him be just whose heart is free from fear.
But mercy is a sovereign cure for fear.
A ruler's part is to destroy his foes.
A ruler's better part, to save his friends.

A mild old man's advice is fit for boys. 445

Still more does hot young manhood need the rein —
I deem that at this age we're wrise enough.
That on thy deed the heavenly gods may smile.
Thou fool, shall I fear gods myself can make ?
Fear this the more, that so great power is thine. 45°

jNly royal fortune grants all things to me.
But trust her cautiously; she may deceive.
A fool is he who does not what he may.
To do, not what he may, but ought, wins praise.

Oct a vi a

437

Nero: The crowd spurns sluggish men.

Seneca: The hated, slays.

Arcro: Yet swords protect a prince.

Seneca: Still better, faith.

Nero: A Caesar should be feared.

Seneca: I And more be loved.

Nero: 1 But men must fear.

Seneca: Enforced commands are hard.

Nero: Let them obey our laws.

Seneca: Make better laws —

Nero: I'll be the judge.

Seneca: Which all men may approve.

Nero: The sword shall force respect.

Seneca: May heaven forbid!

Nero: Shall I then tamely let them seek my blood,

That suddenly despised and unavenged,
I may be taken off ? Though exiled far,
The stubborn spirits are not broken yet
Of Plautus and of Sulla. Still their rage
Persistent spurs their friends to seek my death ;
For still have they the people's love in Rome,
Which ever nourishes the exile's hopes.
Then let the sword remove my enemies;
My hateful wife shall die, and follow him,
vThat brother whom she loves. The high must fall.

Seneca: How fair a thing it is to be the first

Among great men, to think for fatherland,
To spare the weak, to hold the hand of power
From deeds of blood, to give wrath time to think,
jGive rest to a weary world, peace to the age.
This is the noblest part; by this high path
Is heaven sought. So did Augustus first,
The father of his country, gain the stars,
^\.nd as a god is worshiped at the shrines.
Yet he was long by adverse fortune tossed
|On land and sea, in battle's deadly chance,
Until his father's foes he recompensed.
(But fortune hath to thee in peaceful guise
Bent her divinity; with unstained hand

455

460

465

470

475

480

438 The Tragedies of Seneca

Hath she the reins of government bestowed,

And given world -dominion to thy nod.

Sour hate is overcome, and in its stead 485

' Is filial harmony; the senate, knights,

All orders yield obedience to thy will;

For in the fathers' judgment and the prayers
■ Of humbler folk, thou art the arbiter

Of peace, the god of human destinies,

( > nlained to rule the world by right divine.

Thy country's father thou. This sacred name 490

Doth suppliant Rome beseech thee to preserve,

And doth commend her citizens to thee.
Nero: It is the gift of heaven that haughty Rome,

Her people, and her senate bow to me,

And that my terror doth extort those prayers

And servile words from their unwilling lips.

To save the citizens! seditious men,

Who ever 'gainst their land and prince conspire, 495

f Puffed up with pride of race — sheer madness that,

When all my enemies one word of mine

Can doom to death. Base Brutus raised his hand

To slay that prince from whom he had his all;

And he, who never 'mid the shock of arms

Had been o'ercome, the world's great conqueror, 500

Who trod, a very Jove, the lofty paths

Of honor, he was slain by impious hands —

Of citizens! What streams of blood hath Rome,

So often rent by civil strife, beheld !

That very saint of thine, Augustus' self, 505

Who, as thou said'st but now, did merit heaven

By piety — how many noble men

Did he destroy, in lusty youth, in age,
(At home, abroad, when, spurred by mortal fear,
"fThey fled their household gods and that fell sword

Of the Triumvirate, consigned to death

Upon those mindful tablets' fatal lists.

The grieving parents saw their severed heads 510

Upon the rostra set, but dared not weep

Their hapless sons; the forum reeked with blood,

O CT A VI A

439

Seneca:

Nero:

Seneca:

Nero:

And gore down all those rotting faces dripped.
Nor this the end of slaughter and of death:
Long did the plains of grim Philippi feed
The ravenous birds and prowling beasts of prey;
While ships and men, in deadly conflict met,
Beneath Sicilia's waters were engulfed.
The whole world trembled with the shock of arms;
And now, when all was lost, with fleeing ships,
That mighty leader sought the distant Nile,
Doomed soon himself to perish there. And thus,
Once more incestuous Egypt drank the blood
Of Rome's great captains. Now his flitting shade
Is hovering there; ^ind there is civil strife,
So long and impious, at last interred.
Now did the weary victor sheathe his sword,
All blunted with the savage blows he gave,
And held his empire with the rein of fear.
He lived in safety 'neath the ample shield
Of loyal guards; and when his end was come,
The pious mandate of his son proclaimed
Him god, and at the temples' sacred shrines
Was he adored. So shall the stars expect
My godhead too, if first I seize and slay
■ With .sword relentless all who bear me hate.
And on a worthy offspring found my house.
But she will fill thy house with noble sons,
rThat heaven -born glory of the Claudian stock,
Who by the will of fate was wed to thee,
As Juno to her brother Jove was given.
A child of hers would .stain my noble line,
For she herself was of a harlot born;
And more — her heart was never linked to me.
In tender years is faith not manifest,
When love, by shame o'ercome, conceals its fires.
This I myself long trusted, but in vain,
Though she was clearly of unloving heart,
And every look betrayed her hate of me.
At length, in angry grief, I sought reveng
And I have now a worthy wife obtained.

515

520

525

530

535

540

440

The Tragedies of Seneca

Nero:

Seneca
Nero:

Seneca:

In race ami beauty blessed, before whose charms 545

Minerva, Venus, Juno — all would bow.
Seneca: But honor, wifely faith, and modesty —

These should the husband seek, for these alone,
£ The priceless treasures of the heart and soul,

Remain perpetual; but beauty's flower
I Doth fade and languish with each passing day. 550

On her has heaven all its charms bestowed,

And fate has given her from her birth to me.

But love will fail; do not too rashly trust.

Shall he give way, that tyrant of the skies,

Whom Jove, the Thunderer, cannot remove,

Who lords it over savage seas, the realms 555

Of gloomy Dis, and draws the gods to earth ?

'Tis by our human error that we paint

Love as a god, winged, implacable,

And arm his sacred hands with darts and bow,

Assign him blazing torches, count him son

Of fostering Venus and of Vulcan. Nay, 560

SBut love is of the heart's compelling power,

A. fond and cozening passion of the soul;

Of hot youth is it born, and in the lap

Of ease and luxury, 'midst fortune's joys,

Is fostered. But it sickens straight and dies

When you no longer feed and fondle it. 565

Nero: ( I deem the primal source of life is this,
f'The joy of love; and it can never die,

Since by sweet love, which soothes e'en savage breasts,

The human race is evermore renewed.

This god shall bear for me the wedding torch, 570

^And join me with Poppaea in his bonds.
Seneca: The people's grief could scarce endure to see

That marriage, nor would piety permit.
Nero: — Shall I alone avoid what all may do ?

Seneca: The state from loftiest souls expects the best. 575

Nero: V I fain would see if, broken by my power,

This rashly cherished favor will not yield.
Seneca: 'Tis better calmly to obey the state.
Nero: — 111 fares the state, when commons govern kings.

O C T A V I A

441

Seneca: > They justly chafe who pray without avail. 580

Nero: 1 When prayers do not avail, should force be sought ?

Seneca: v Rebuffs are hard.

Nero: 'Tis wrong to force a prince.

Seneca: He should give way.

Nero: Then rumor counts him forced.

Seneca: Rumor's an empty thing.

Nero: But harmful too.

Seneca: She fears the strong. 585

Nero: But none the less maligns.

Seneca: She soon can be o'ercome. But let the youth,

The faith and chastity of this thy wife,

The merits of her sainted sire prevail

To turn thee from thy will.
Nero: Have done at last,

For wearisome has thy insistence grown;

One still may do what Seneca comdemns.

And I myself have now too long delayed 590

The people's prayers for offspring to the throne.
^Tomorrow's morn her wedding day shall prove,

Who bears within her womb my pledge of love.
[Exeunt.]

ACT III

■Ghost of Agrippina [bearing a flaming torch]: Through cloven earth from
Tartarus I come,
To bring in bloody hands this torch of hell
To light these cursed rites; with such dire flames 595

Let this Poppaea wed my son, which soon
His mother's grief and vengeful hand shall turn
To funeral fires. And ever 'mid the shades
My impious murder in my memory dwells,
A heavy weight ujxin my grieving soul
Still unavenged; for, Oh, ingratitude

He gave me in return for all my gifts, 600

E'en for the gift of empire did he give
A murderous ship designed to work my death.
I would have wept my comrades' plight, and more,
My son's most cruel deed: no time for tears

£

442 The Tragedies of Seneca

Was given, but even higher did lie heap 605

His sum of crime. Though I escaped the sea,
I felt the keen sword's thrust, and, with my blood
The very gods defiling, poured my soul
In anguish forth. But even yet his hate
Was not appeased. Against my very name
The tyrant raged; my merits he obscured; 610

My statues, my inscriptions, honors — all,
On pain of death he bade to be destroyed
Throughout the world — that world my hapless love,
To my own direful punishment, had given
To be by him, an untried boy, controlled.
And now my murdered husband's angry ghost
^ Shakes vengeful torches in my guilty face, 615

Insistent, threat'ning; blames his death on me,
His murdered son, and loud demands that now
The guilty cause be given up. Have done:
He shall be given, and that right speedily.
Avenging furies for his impious head

Are planning even now a worthy fate: 620

Base flight and blows, and fearful sufferings,
By which the raging thirst of Tantalus
He shall surpass; the cruel, endless toil
Of Sisyphus; the pain that Tityus feels,
And the dread, racking anguish of the wheel
On which Ixion's whirling limbs are stretched.
Let gold and marble deck his palace walls;
Let armed guards protect him; let the world 625

Be beggared that its treasures vast may flow
Into his lap; let suppliant Parthians bend
To kiss his hands, and bring rich offerings:
The day and hour will come when for his crimes
His guilty soul shall full atonement make, 630

When to his enemies he shall be given,
Deserted and destroyed and stripped of all.
Oh, to what end my labors and my prayers ?
Why did thy frenzied madness, O my son,
And fate impel thee to such depths of crime
That e'en thy mother's wrath, whom thou didst slay, 635

O C T A V I A 443

Is all too small to match her sufferings?
Oh, would that, ere I brought thee forth to light,
And suckled thee, my vitals had been rent
By savage beasts! Then senseless, innocent,
And mine wouldst thou have perished; joined to me
Wouldst thou forever see the quiet seats 640

Of this abode of souls, thy mighty sire,
And grandsires too, those men of glorious name,
Whom now perpetual shame and grief await
Because of thee, thou monster, and of me.
But why delay in hell to hide my face,

Since I have proved a curse to all my race ? 645

[Vanishes.]
Octavia [to the Chorus in deprecation of their grief because of her divorce]:
Restrain your tears; put on a face of joy,
As on a festal day, lest this your love
And care for me should stir the royal wrath,
And I be cause of suffering to you. 650

j This wound is not the first my heart has felt;

Far worse have I endured; but all shall end,

Perchance in death, before this day is done.
No more upon my brutal husband's face

Shall I be forced to look; that hateful couch, 655

Long since consigned to slavish uses, base,

I shall behold no more.

For now Augustus' sister shall I be,

And not his wife. But Oh, be far from me

All cruel punishments and fear of death. 660

Poor, foolish girl ! and canst thou hope for this ?

Bethink thee of his former sins — and hope.

Nay, he has spared thy wretched life till now,

That thou mayst at his marriage altars fall.

But why so often turn thy streaming eyes 665

Upon thy home ? Now speed thy steps away.

And leave this bloody prince's hall for aye.
Chorus: Now dawns at last the day we long have feared

And talked of. Lo, our Claudia, driven forth 670

By cruel Nero's threats, leaves that alx)de

Which even now Poppaea calls her own;

444 TnE Tragedies of Seneca

While we must sit and grieve with sluggish woe,

By heavy fear oppressed. 675

Where is that Roman people's manhood now,

Which once the pride of mighty leaders crushed,

(lave righteous laws to an unconquered land,

Cave powers at will to worthy citizens,

Made peace and war, fierce nations overcame, 680

And held in dungeons dark their captive kings?

Behold, on every side our eyes are grieved

By this Poppaea's gleaming statues joined

With Nero's images — a shameful sight. 685

Come, overturn them with indignant hands,

Too like in feature to her living face.

And her we'll drag from off that royal couch ;

And then, with flaming brand and deadly sword,

Attack the princely palace of her lord.

ACT rv

Nurse [to Poppaea, who appears, distraught, coming out of her chamber]:

Wrhy dost thou from thy husband's chamber come, 690
Dear child, with hurried step and troubled face ?
vWhy dost thou seek a lonely place to weep ?
For surely has the day we long have sought
With prayers and promised victims come at last.
Thou hast thy Caesar, firmly joined to thee
By ties of marriage, whom thy beauty won, 695

Whom Venus gave to thee in bonds of love,
Though Seneca despised and flouted her.
How beautiful, upon the banquet couch
Reclining in the palace, didst thou seem !
The senate viewed thy beauty in amaze

When thou didst offer incense to the gods, 700

'And sprinkle wine upon the sacred shrines,
^Thy head the while with gauzy purple veiled.
And close beside thee was thy lord himself;
Amid the favoring plaudits of the crowd
He walked majestic, in his look and mien
Proclaiming all his pride and joy in thee. 705

So did the noble Peleus lead his bride

O c t a v I A 445

Emerging from the ocean's snowy foam,

Whose wedding feast the heavenly gods adorned,

With equal joy the sea divinities.

What sudden cause has clouded o'er thy face? 710

Tell me, what mean thy pallor and thy tears!
Poppaca: Dear nurse, this night I had a dreadful dream;

And even now, as I remember it,

My mind is troubled and my senses fail.

For when the joyful day had sunk to rest,

And in the darkened sky the stars appeared, 715

I lay asleep within my Nero's arms.

But that sweet sleep I could not long enjoy;

For suddenly a grieving crowd appeared

To throng my chamber — Roman matrons they,

With hair disheveled and loud cries of woe. 720

'Then 'midst the oft-repeated, strident blasts

Of trumpets/ there appeared my husband's mother,

And shook before my face with threat'ning mien

A bloody torch. Compelled by present fear,

I followed her; when suddenly the earth 725

{ Seemed rent asunder to its lowest depths.

Headlong to these I plunged, and even there

In wonder I beheld my wedding couch,

Whereon I sank in utter weariness.

Then with a throng of followers I saw

My son and former husband drawing near.

Straightway Crispinus hastened to my arms, 730

And on my lips his eager kisses fell:

When suddenly within that chamber burst

My lord the king with frantic, hurrying steps,

And plunged his sword into that other's throat.
V A mighty terror siezed me, and at last

It roused me from my sleep. I started up

With trembling limbs and wildly beating heart. 735

Long was I speechless from that haunting fear,

Until thy fond affection gave me tongue.

Why do the ghosts of hades threaten me?

Or why did I behold my husband's blood ?
Xurse: All things which occupy the waking ' mind, 740

' Reading, intentus.

446 The Tragedies of S'eneca

Some subtle power, swift working, weaves again
Int. i our web of dreams. Small wonder then,
Thy sleeping thoughts were filled with marriage beds
And husbands, when thy newly mated lord
Held thee in his embrace. Does it seem strange
That thou shouldst dream tonight of sounds of woe, 745

Of breasts hard beaten and of streaming hair?
Octavia's departure did they mourn
Within her brother's and her father's house.
The torch which thou didst follow, borne aloft
By Agrippina's hand, is but a sign
That hate shall win for thee a mighty name.
Thy marriage couch, in realms infernal seen, 750

Portends a lasting state of wedded joy.
Since in Crispinus' neck the sword was sheathed,
/"Believe that no more wars thy lord shall wage,
But hide his sword within the breast of peace.
Take heart again, recall thy joys, I pray,

| Throw off thy fears, and to thy couch return. 755

Poppaea: Nay, rather will I seek the sacred shrines,
_And there make sacrifice unto the gods,
^That they avert these threats of night and sleep,
And turn my terrors all upon my foes.

Do thou pray for me and the gods implore 760

That in this happy state I may endure.
[Exeunt Poppaea and Nurse.]
Chorus [of Roman women in sympathy with Poppaea]: If babbling
rumor's tales of Jove,
His secret joys in mortal love,
Are true, he once, in plumage dressed,
Was to the lovely Leda pressed; 765

And as a savage bull he bore
Europa from her native shore:
But should he once thy form, Poppaea, see,
He would leave his shining stars to dwell with thee.

For thou than Leda many fold 770

Art fairer, or that maid of old

Whom Jove embraced in showers of gold.

Let Sparta boast her lovely dame,

O C T A V I A 447

Who, as his prize, to Paris came:

Though Helen's beauty drove the world to arms, 775

She still must yield to our Poppaea's charms.
[Enter Messenger.]

But who comes here with hurried step and wild?

What tidings bears he in his heaving breast?
Messenger: Whoever guards our noble prince's house, 780

Let him defend it from the people's rage.

Behold, the prefects lead their men in haste,
. To save the city from the furious mob

Whose reckless passion grows, unchecked by fear.
Chorus: [_What is the madness that inflames their hearts ? 785

Messenger: The people for their loved Octavia

Are wild with rage and grief; and now in throngs

Are rushing forth in mood for any deed.
Chorus: What are they bent to do, or with what plan ?
Messenger: To give Octavia back her father's house,

Her brother's bed, and her due share of empire. 790

Chorus: But these Poppaea holds as Nero's wife.
Messenger: 'Tis even she 'gainst whom the people's rage

Burns most persistent, and to reckless deeds

Is driven headlong on. Whate'er they see,

Of noble marble wrought, or gleaming bronze,

The hated image of Poppaea's face, 795

They cast it to the earth with wanton hands

And crushing bars. The shattered parts they drag

Along the streets, and with insulting heel

Deep in the filthy mud they trample them.

These savage deeds are mingled with such words

As I should fear to utter in your ears. 800

Soon will they hedge the royal house with flames,

Unless the prince his new-made wife give up

To sate the people's wrath, and then restore

To noble Claudia her father's house.

That he himself may know these threatened deeds,

I'll haste to tell him as the prefect bade. 805

[Exit.]
Chorus: Why vainly strive against the powers above?

For Cupid's weapons are invincible.

448 The Tragedies of Seneca

Your puny furs by those fierce flames he'll dim
By which he oft has quenched the bolts of Jove,
And brought the Thunderer captive from the sky. 810

For this offense you shall dire forfeit pay,
E'en with your blood; for hot of wrath is he,
And may not be o'ercome. At his command
) Did fierce Achilles strike the peaceful lyre;
He forced the Greeks and Agamemnon proud 815

To do his will. Illustrious cities, too,
And Priam's realm he utterly destroyed.
y\nd now my mind in fear awaits to see
What Cupid's cruel penalties will be.

ACT V

Nero [seated in a room of his palace]i Too slow my soldiers' hands, 820
too mild my wrath,

When citizens have dared such crimes as these.

Those torches that they kindled 'gainst their prince

Their blood shall quench; and Rome, who bore such men,

Shall be bespattered with her people's gore,
j Yet death is far too light a punishment 825

For such atrocities; this impious mob

Shall suffer worse than death. But she, my wife
] And sister, whom I hate with deadly fear,
r For whose sole sake the people rage at me,
] Shall give her life at last to sate my grief,

And quench my anger in her flowing blood. 830

Soon shall my flames enwrap the city's walls,

And in the ruins of her falling homes
^The people shall be buried; squalid want,

Dire hunger, grief — all these shall they endure.

Too fat upon the blessings of our age

Has this vile mob become, and know not how 835

To bear our clemency and relish peace;
(-But, rash and reckless, are they ever borne

By shifting tides of passion to their hurt.

They must be held in check by suffering,

Be ever pressed beneath the heavy yoke,

Lest once again they dare assail the throne, 840

O C T A V I A 449

And to the august features of my wife

Dare lift again their vulgar eyes. O'erawed

By fear of punishment must they be taught

To yield obedience to their prince's nod.

But here I see the man whose loyalty

Has made him captain of my royal guards. 845

[Enter Prefect.]
Prefect: The people's rage by slaughter of a few,

Who most resistance made is overcome.
Nero: Is that enough ? Was that my word to thee ?

\ "Is overcome ?" Where then is my revenge ?
Prefect: The guilty leaders of the mob are dead. 850

Nero: Nay, but the mob itself, which dared to assail

My house with flames, to dictate laws to me,

To drag my noble wife from off my bed,

And with unhallowed hands and angry threats

To affront her majesty — are they unscathed ? 855

Prefect: Shall angry grief decide their punishment ?
Nero: It shall — whose fame no future age shall dim.

Prefect: *) Which neither wrath nor fear shall moderate ?'
Nero: She first shall feel my wrath who merits it.

Prefect: Tell whom thou mean'st. My hand shall spare her not. 860
Nero: My wrath demands my guilty sister's death.

Prefect: Benumbing horror holds me in its grasp.
Nero: Wilt not obey my word ?

Prefect: Why question that ?

Nero: Because thou spar'st my foe.

Prefect: A woman, foe?

Nero: If she be criminal. 865

Prefect: But what her crime ?

Nero: The people's rage.

Prefect: But who can check their rage?

Nero: The one who fanned its flame.

Prefect: But who that one ?

Nero: A woman she, to whom an evil heart

Hath nature given, a soul to fraud inclined.
Prefect: But not the power to act. 870

Nero: That she may be

1 Reading, quam tempcrcl non ira, etc.

45© The Tragedies of Seneca

Without the power to act, thai present fear

May break her strength, let punishment at once,

Too long delayed, crush out her guilty life.

Have done at once with arguments ami prayers,

And do my royal bidding: let her sail

To some far distant shore and there be slain, 875

i^That thus at last my fears may he at rest.
[Exeunt.]
Chorus [attached to Octavia]: Oh, dire and deadly has the people's love

To many proved, which fills their swelling sails

With favoring breeze, and bears them out to sea;

But soon its vigor languishes and dies, 880

And leaves them to the mercy of the deep.

The wretched mother of the Gracchi wept

Her murdered sons, who, though of noble blood,

Far famed for eloquence and piety, 885

Stout-hearted, learned in defense of law,

Were brought to ruin by the people's love

And popular renown. And Livius, thee
1 To equal fate did fickle fortune give,

Who found no safety in thy lictors' rods,
^No refuge in thy home. But grief forbids

To tell more instances. This hapless girl, 890

To whom but now the citizens decreed

The restoration of her fatherland,

Her home, her brother's couch, is dragged away

In tears and misery to punishment,

With citizens consenting to her death ! 895

Oh, blessed poverty, content to hide
JBeneath the refuge of a lowly roof !

For lofty homes, to fame and fortune known,

By storms are blasted and by fate o'erthrown !
[Enter Octavia in the custody 0} the palace guards, who are draggmg her

roughly out into the street.]
Octavia: S Oh, whither do ye hurry me ? What fate

I Has that vile tyrant or his queen ordained ? 900

Does she, subdued and softened by my woes,

Grant me to live in exile ? Or, if not,

If she intends to crown my sufferings

O C T A V I A 45I

With (hath, why does her savage heart begrudge

That I should die at home? But now, alas, 905

I can no longer hope for life; behold,

My brother's bark, within whose treacherous hold

His mother once was borne; and now for me,

Poor wretch, his slighted sister-wife, it waits. 910

No more has right a place upon the earth,

Nor heavenly gods. Grim Fury reigns supreme.

Oh, who can fitly weep my evil plight ?
. What nightingale has tongue to sing my woes ? 915

Would that the fates would grant her wings to me!

Then would I speed away on pinions swift,

And leave my grievous troubles far behind,

Leave these unholy haunts of savage men. 920

(There, all alone, within some forest wide,
\Among the swaying branches would I sit,

\And let my grieving spirit weep its fill.
Chorus: (The race of men is by the fates controlled,

And none may hope to make his own secure; 925

And o'er the ever-shifting ways of life
(The day which most we fear shall come to us.

But comfort now thy heart with thought of those

Of thine own house who suffered ill, and ask: 930

In what has fortune been more harsh to thee?

Thee first I name, Agrippa's noble child,

The famous mother of so many sons,

Great Caesar's wife, whose name throughout the world 935

In (laming glory shone, whose teeming womb

Brought forth so many hostages of peace:

E'en thee did exile wait, and cruel chains,

Blows, bitter anguish, and at last a death 940

Of lingering agony. And Livia, thou,

Though fortunate in husband and in sons,

Didst walk the way of sin and punishment.
Vnd Julia, too, endured her mother's fate;

For, though no evil deed was charged to her, 945

She fell a victim to the sword at last.

What could not once thy mighty mother do

Who ruled supreme the house of Claudius,

459

The Tragedies of Seneca

By him beloved, and in her son secure?

Yet she at last was subject tX) a slave, 950

And fell beneath a brutal soldier's sword.

For what exalted heights of royalty

Might not our Nero's mother once have hoped ?

Mishandled first by vulgar sailors' hands, 955

Then slain and mangled by the bungling sword,

She lay the victim of her cruel son.
Octavia: \ Me, too, the tyrant to the world of shades

' Is sending. Why delay ? Then speed my death, 960

( For fate hath made me subject to your power.

I pray the heavenly gods — what wouldst thou, fool ?

I Pray not to gods who show their scorn of thee.

But, O ye gods of hell, ye furies dire, 965

Who work your vengeance on the crimes of men,

And thou, my father's restless spirit, come

And bring this tyrant fitting punishment.
[To her guards.]

The death you threaten has no terrors now

For me. Go, set your ship in readiness, 970

Unfurl your sails, and let your pilot seek

The barren shores of Pandataria.

[Exit Octavia with guards.]
Chorus: < Ye gentle breezes and ye zephyrs mild,

Which once from savage Dian's altar bore 975

Atrides' daughter in a cloud concealed,

This child of ours, Octavia too, we pray,

Bear far away from these too cruel woes,

And set her in the fane of Trivia.

For Aulis is more merciful than Rome,

The savage Taurian land more mild than this: 980

There hapless strangers to their gods they feed,

But Rome delights to see her children bleed.

COMPARATIVE ANALYSES

COMPARATIVE ANALYSES OF SENECA'S TRAGEDIES AND
THE CORRESPONDING GREEK DRAMAS

The Phoaiissae, if, indeed, these fragments are to be considered as
belonging to one play, has no direct correspondent in Greek drama;
although, in the general situations and in some details, it is similar to
parts of three plays: The Seven Against Thebes of Aeschylus, the Oedipus
at CoionitS of Sophocles, and the Phoenician Damsels of Euripides. The
Thyesks is without a parallel in extant Greek drama; and the Octavia,

of Course, gt^nr|g nlone .

The other seven tragedies attributed by tradition to Seneca, together
with their Greek correspondents, are here presented in comparative analyses
in order that the reader may be enabled easily to compare, at least so far
as subject-matter and dramatic structure are concerned, the Roman
tragedies and their Greek originals.

Although the traditional division into acts is followed in the English
version of the several plays, it seems wise in these comparisons to give
the more minute division into prologue, episodes, and choral interludes.

THE OEDIPUS OF SOPHOCLES, AND THE OEDIPUS OF

SENECA

Prologue. — Dialogue between Oedi-
pus and the priest of Zeus, who discloses
the present plague-smitten condition
of the people, and prays the king for
aid since he is so wise. The fatherly
regard of Oedipus for his people, in
that he has already sent a messenger
to ask the aid of the oracle, is por-
trayed.

The answer of the oracle: first ref-
erence to an unexpiated sin. Short
question and answer between Oedipus
and Creon, the messenger, bringing
out the facts of Laius' death.

The irony of fate: Oedipus pro-
poses, partly in his own interest, to
seek out the murderer. As yet there
is no foreshadowing of evil in the king's

Prologue. — In the early morning
Oedipus is seen lamenting the plague-
smitten condition of his people. He
narrates how he had fled from Corinth
to avoid the fulfilment of a dreadful
oracle, that he should kill his father
and wed his mother. Even here be
cannot feel safe, but still fears some
dreadful fate that seems threatening.
He describes with minute detail the
terrors of the pestilence which has
smitten man and bea>t and even the
vegetable world. He prays for death
that he may not survive his Btri< ken
people. Jocasta remonstrates with
him for his despair and reminds him
that it is a king's duty to bear
reverses with checrfuness.

455

456

The Tragedies of Seneca

mind. At the <"<\ of the prologue < >cdi-
|>us remains alone upon the stage.

Parade, or chorus entry. Thci horns
enlarges upon the distresses <>f the
dry, and appeals to tin- gods for aid.

First episode. — The curse of Oedi-
pus upon the unknown murderer
is pronounced, and the charge is made
by Tiresias (who long refuses to speak
but is forced to do so by Oedipus),
"Thou art the man." Oedipus'
explanation of Tiresias' charge; it is
a plot between the latter and Crcon.
The facts of Oedipus' birth are hinted
at. Tiresias prophesies the after-life
of the king, with the name but thinly
veiled.

First choral interlude. — The chorus
reflects upon the oracle and the certain
discovery of the guilty one. Ideal

Parade, or chorus entry. The (horns

appeals to Bacchus, relating how the
descendants of his old Theban com
rades are perishing. It enlarges upon
the distresses of the city, and deplores

the violence of the plague. The suf-
ferings of the people are described in

minute detail.

First episode. — Creon, returned
from the consultation of the oracle at
Delphi, announces that the plague is
caused by the unatoned murder of
Lai'us, former king of Thebes. Oedi-
pus anxiously inquires who the mur-
derer is, but is told that this is still a
mystery. Creon describes the scene
at Delphi in the giving of the oracle.
Oedipus declares himself eager to
hunt out the murderer and inquires
why the matter has been left so long
uninvestigated. He is told that the
terrors of the Sphinx had driven all
other thoughts out of the people's
mind.

The irony of fate: Oedipus pro-
nounces a dreadful curse upon the
murderer of Lai'us and vows not to
rest until he finds him. He inquires
where the murder took place and
how. At this moment the blind old
Tiresias enters, led by his daughter,
Manto. Tiresias tries by the arts of
divination (which are described with
the greatest elaboration) to ascertain
the name of the murderer, but with-
out avail; and says that recourse
must be had to necromancy, or the
raising of the dead.

First choral interlude. — The chorus
sings a dithyrambic strain in praise of
the wonderful works of Bacchus. No

Seneca and the Greek Dramas

457

picture of the flight of the murderer.
While troubled by the charge of Tire-
sias, the chorus still refuses to give it
credence. After all, the seer is only
a man and liable to be mistaken.
Oedipus has shown himself a wiser
man by solving the riddle of the
Sphinx.

Second episode. — Quarrel of Oedi-
pus and Creon based upon the charges
of the former. Oedipus' argument:
The deed was done long ago, and
Tiresias, though then also a seer, made
no charge. Now, when forced by the
recent oracle, the seer comes forward
with Creon. This looks like a con-
spiracy. Creon pleads for a fair and
complete investigation. Jocasta tries
to reconcile the two, but in vain, and
Creon is driven out. Jocasta relates
the circumstances of Laius' death,
which tally in all details but one with
the death of one slain by Oedipus. A
terrible conclusion begins to dawn
upon the king. He tells his queen
the story of his life and the dreadful
oracle, the fear of the fulfilment of
which drove him from Corinth. At
the end of this episode the death of
Laius at the hands of Oedipus is all
but proved, but the relation between
the two is not yet hinted at.

Second choral interlude. — Prayer for
a life in accordance with the will of
heaven. Under the shadow of im-
pending ill, the chorus seeks the aid
of God, meditates upon the doom of
the unrighteous, and considers the
seeming fallibility of the oracle.

Third episode. — A messenger from
Corinth brings the news of Polybus'
death, the supposed father of Oedipus.
The irony of fate: the king is lifted

reference is made to the tragedy
which is in progress.

Second episode. — Creon returns from
the rites of necromancy in which he
had accompanied Tiresias, and strives
to avoid telling the result of the inves-
tigation to the king. Being at last
forced to reveal all that he knows, he
describes with great vividness of
detail how Tiresias has summoned
up the spirits of the dead, and among
them Laius. The latter declares
that Oedipus himself is the murderer,
having slain his father and married
his mother. Oedipus, strong in the
belief that Polybus and Meropc of
Corinth are his parents, denies the
charge, and after a hot dispute orders
Creon to be cast into prison, on sus-
picion of a conspiracy with Tiresias
to deprive Oedipus of the scepter.

Second choral interlude. — The cho-
rus refuses to believe the charge
against Oedipus, but lays the blame
of all these ills upon the evil fate of
Thebes which has pursued the The-
bans from the first.

Third episode. — Oedipus, remem-
bering that he had slain a man on his
way to Thebes, questions Jocasta
more closely as to the circumstances

458

The Tragedies of Seneca

up with joy that now the oracle cannot
be fulfilled that he should kill his own
father. Step by step the details of
the king's infancy come out, which
reveal the awful truth to Jocasta. To
Oedipus the only result of the present
revelation is that he is probably base-
born. Jocasta tries to deter Oedipus
from further investigation.

Strophe and antistrophe. — A partial
interlude, while they wait for the shep-
herd who is to furnish the last link in
the chain of evidence. The chorus
conjectures as to the wonderful birth
of Oedipus; possibly his father is Pan,
or Apollo, or Mercury, or Bacchus.

The shepherd, arriving, also seeks
to keep the dreadful truth from the
king, but a second time the passion of
Oedipus forces the truth from an
unwilling witness. At last the whole
story comes out, and Oedipus realizes
that he has slain his father and wed
his mother.

Third choral interlude. — The utter
nothingness of human life, judged by
the fate of Oedipus, who above all
men was successful, wise, and good.
It is inscrutable; why should such a
fate come to him ? The chorus
laments the doom of the king as its
own.

Exode. — The catastrophe in its final
manifestations. A messenger de-
scribes the lamentations and suicide
of Jocasta, the despair of Oedipus, and

of Lalus' death, and finding these
circumstances to tally with his own
experience, is convinced that he was
indeed the slayer of Lalus.

At this point a messenger from
Corinth, an old man, announces to
Oedipus the death of Polybus, the
king of Corinth, and the supposed
father of Oedipus. The latter is sum-
moned to the empty throne of Corinth.
A quick succession of questions and
answers brings to light the fact that
Oedipus is not the child of Poly-
bus and Merope, but that the mes-
senger himself had given him when
an infant to the Corinthian pair.
This announcement removes the
chief support of Oedipus against the
charges of Tiresias, and now he rushes
blindly on to know the rest of the
fatal truth. The shepherd is sum-
moned who had given the baby to
the old Corinthian. He strives to
avoid answering, but, driven on by the
threats of Oedipus, he at last states
that he had received the child from
the royal household of Thebes, and
that it was in fact the son of Jocasta.
At this last and awful disclosure,
Oedipus goes off the stage in a fit of
raving madness.

Third choral interlude. — The chorus
reflects upon the dangerous position
of the man who is unduly exalted, and
illustrates this principle by the case of
Icarus.

Exode. — Although there is a short
chorus interjected here (fines 980-97)
on the inevitableness of fate, all the
remainder of the play is really the

Seneca and the Greek Dramas

459

the wild mood in which he inflicts
blindness upon himself. He comes
upon the stage piteously wailing and
groping his way. He prays for death
or banishment at the hands of Creon,
who is now king. He takes a tender
farewell of his daughters and consigns
them to Creon's care.

The play ends with the solemn
warning of the chorus "to reckon no
man happy till ye witness the closing
day; until he pass the border which
severs life from death, unscathed by
sorrow."

exode, showing the catastrophe in its
final manifestation. A messenger
describes with horrible minuteness
how Oedipus in his ravings has dug
out his eyes. At this point Oedipus
himself comes upon the stage, rejoic-
ing in his blindness, since now he can
never look upon his shame. And
now Jocasta appears, having heard
strange rumors. On learning the
whole truth, she slays herself on the
stage with Oedipus' sword. The play
ends as the blind old king goes grop-
ing his way out into darkness and
exile.

THE MEDEA OF EURIPIDES, AND THE MEDEA OF SENECA

Prologue. — The old nurse of Medea,
alone upon the stage, laments that
the Argo was ever framed and that
Medea had ever fled from Colchis.
Then had she never been here in
Corinth an exile and now deserted
even by her husband, Jason. In
describing Medea's distracted condi-
tion, the nurse first voices the fear of
that violence which forms the catas-
trophe of the play. Enter an old
attendant with the two sons of Medea,
who announces a new woe — that
Creon, the king, has decreed the ban-
ishment of Medea and her children.
The nurse repeats her warning note,
and urges the attendant to keep the
children out of the sight of their
mother, who even now can be heard
raving within, and vowing the destruc-
tion of her children and her husband.
The attendant retires with the chil-
dren.

Parode, or chorus entry. — The chorus
of Corinthian women comes to the

Prologue. — Medea, finding herself
deserted by Jason, calls upon gods and
furies to grant her vengeance. She
prays for destruction to light upon her
rival, and imprecates curses upon
Jason. She thinks it monstrous that
the sun can still hold on his way, and
prays for power to subvert the whole
course of nature. She finally realizes
that she is impotent save as she has
recourse to her old sorceries which she
has long since laid aside, and resolves
upon them as a means of revenge.

Parode, or chorus entry. — A chorus
of Corinthians chants an epithalamium

4(>o

The Tragedies of Seneca

front of the palace to inquire the
cause of Medea's cries, which they
have beard, and to profess their
attachment to her. From time to
time Medea's voice can be heard from
within as she prays for death and
imprecates curses upon Jason. The
nurse at the suggestion of the chorus
undertakes to induce her mistress to
come forth, that converse with her
friends may soothe her grief. The
nurse goes within, leaving the chorus
alone upon the stage.

First episode. — Medea comes forth
from the palace to explain to the
chorus her position and unhappy
condition. She deplores the lot of
women in general, and especially in
relation to marriage, and enlists the
sympathy of the chorus in her attempt
to secure some revenge for her wrongs.
They confess the justice of her cause
and promise to keep her secret.

Creon announces to Medea that
she must leave his realm at once, for
much he fears that she will take her
revenge upon him and upon his house.
She pleads for grace, and bewails her
reputation for magic power; she
assures the king that he has nothing
to fear from her, and affects com-
pliance with all that has taken place.
Creon, while still protesting that she
cannot be trusted, yields in so far
that he grants her a single day's
delay.

Medea tells the chorus that her
recent compliance was only feigned,
and openly announces her intention
before the day is done of slaying
Creon, his daughter, and Jason. She
debates the various methods by which
this may be accomplished, and

for the nuptials of Jason and Creiisa
First, in Asclepiadean strains, they
invoke the gods to be present and bless
the nuptials. The strain then changes
to quick, joyful Glyconks in praise of
the surpassing beauty of the married
pair. Changing back to Asclcpiads,
the chorus continues in extravagant
praise of Jason and his bride, con-
gratulates him on his exchange from
Medea to Creiisa, and finally, in six
lines of hexameter, exults in the license
of the hour.

First episode. — Hearing the epitha-
lamium, Medea goes into a passion of
rage. She recounts all that she has
done for Jason, and exclaims against
his ingratitude. Again, with shifting
feelings she pleads Jason's cause to
herself and strives to excuse him, blam-
ing all upon Creon. Upon him she
vows the direst vengeance. Mean-
while the nurse in vain urges prudence.

Creon now enters, manifesting in
his words a fear of Medea, and bent
upon her immediate banishment.
Medea pleads her innocence, and begs
to know the reason for her exile. She
reviews at length her former regal
estate and contrasts with this her
present forlorn condition. She claims
the credit for the preservation of all
the Argonautic heroes. Upon this
ground she claims that Jason is hers.
She begs of Creon some small corner
in his kingdom for her dwelling, but
the king remains obdurate. She then
prays for a single day's delay in which
to say farewell to her children, who are
to remain, the wards of the king. This
prayer Creon reluctantly grants.

Seneca and the Greek Dramas 461

decides, for her own greater safety,
upon the help of magic.

i'irst choral interlude. — -The course
of nature is subverted. No longer
let woman alone have the reputation
for falsehood; man's insincerity equals
hers. In poetry the fickleness of both
should be sung, just as in history it is
seen. Though Medea, for her love of
Jason, left her native land and braved
all the terrors of the deep, she is now
left all forsaken and alone. Verily
truth and honor have departed from
the earth.

Second episode. — Jason reproaches
Medea for her intemperate speech
against the king, which has resulted
in her banishment, and shows her
that he is still concerned for her inter-
ests. She retorts with reproaches
because of his ingratitude, and pro-
ceeds to recount all that she had done
for him and given up in his behalf.
Jason replies that it was not through
her help but that of Venus that he had
escaped all the perils of the past, and
reminds her of the advantages which
she herself had gained by leaving her
barbarous land for Greece. He even
holds that his marriage into the royal
family of Corinth is in her interest
and that of her children, since by
this means their common fortunes
will be mended. He offers her from
his new resources assistance for her
exile, which she indignantly refuses,
and Jason retires from her bitter
taunts.

First choral interlude. — Apropos of
Medea's reference to the Argonautic
heroes the chorus sings of the dangers
which those first voyagers upon the
sea endured; how the natural bounds
which the gods set to separate t In-
lands have now been removed — and
all this for gold and this barbarian
woman. (The chorus is nowhere
friendly to Medea, as in Euripides.)
The ode ends with a prophecy of the
time when all the earth shall be re-
vealed, and there shall be no " Ultima
Thule."

Second episode. — Medea is rushing
out to seek vengeance, while the nurse
tries in vain to restrain her. The
nurse soliloquizes, describing the wild
frenzy of her mistress, and expressing
grave fears for the result. Medea, not
noticing the nurse's presence, refta ts
upon the day that has been granted
her by Creon, and VOWS that her ter-
rible vengeance shall be commensurate
with her sufferings. She rushes off
the stage, while the nurse calls after
her a last warning.

Jason now enters, lamenting the
difficult position in which hi- finds
himself. He that it is for his

children's sake that he has done all,

and hopes to be able to persuade Me-
dea herself to take this view. Me. lea
comes back, and at sight of Jason her
fury is still further inflamed. She
announces her intended flight. Hut
whither shall she Bee? For his sake
she has closed all lands against her-
self. In bit; ism she accepts
all these sufferings as her just punish-
ment. Then in a flash of fury she

l6a

The Tragedies of Seneca

Second choral interlude. — The cho-
rus prays to be delivered from the pangs
of immoderate love and jealousy, from
exile, and the ingratitude of friends.

Third episode. — Aegeus, in Corinth
by accident, recognizes Medea, and
learns from her her present grievous
condition and imminent exile. She
begs that he receive her into his king-
dom as a friend under his protection.

recalls all her services to him and con-
trasts his ingratitude. She shifts
suddenly to passionate entreaty, and
prays him to pity her, to give back all
i hit she gave up for him, if she must
needs Bee; she begs him to brave the
wrath of Creon and flee with her, and
promises him her protection as of old.
In a long scries of quick, short passages
they shift from phase to phase of
feeling, and finally Medea prays that
in her flight she may have her children
as her comrades. Jason's refusal
shows how deeply he loves his sons,
and here is suggested to Medea for
the first time the method of her direst
revenge. Jason now yields to her
assumed penitence and grants her the
custody of the children for this day
alone. When Jason has withdrawn,
she bids the nurse prepare the fatal
robe which she proposes to send to her
rival by the hands of her children.

Second choral interlude. — The chorus
opens on the text, "Hell hath no fury
like a woman scorned," and continues
with a prayer for Jason's safety. It
then recounts the subsequent history
of the individual Argonauts, showing
how almost all came to some untimely
end. They might indeed be said to
deserve this fate, for they volunteered
to assist in that first impious voyage
in quest of the golden fleece; but Jason
should be spared the general doom,
for the task had been imposed upon
him by his usurping uncle, Pelias.

Third episode. — The nurse in a long
monologue recites Medea's magic
wonders of the past, and all her present
preparations. Then Medea's voice is
heard, and presently she comes upon
the stage chanting her incantations.

Seneca and the Greek Dramas

463

This he promises with a mighty oath
to do.

Medea, left alone with the chorus,
explains to it still more in detail her
plans. She will send her sons with
gifts to the new bride, which, by their
magic power, will destroy her and all
who touch her. She adds that she
will also slay her two sons, the more
to injure Jason. The chorus, while
protesting against this last proposal,
offers no resistance.

Third choral interlude. — The chorus,
dwelling upon Medea's proposed
place of refuge, sings the praises of
Athens, sacred to the Muses. It
contrasts with this holy city the dread-
ful deed which Medea intends, and
again vainly strives to dissuade her.

Fourth episode. — Medea, sending
for Jason, with feigned humility
reproaches herself for her for hut
intemperate words to him, and begs
only that he use his influence for the
reprieve of their children from exile.
To assist him in this, she proposes to
send the children themselves, bearing
a gorgeous robe of golden tissue
(which she has anointed with magic
poison) as a wedding present to the
bride. Upon this errand Jason retires
attended by his little sons.

Fourth choral interlude.— -The cho-
rus, with full knowledge of the fatal
robe, pictures the delight of the bride
at its reception, and laments her fear-
ful doom.

Fifth episode. — This episode is in
four parts.

The attendant returns with the
children and announces to Medea

She summons up the gods of Tartara
to aid her task; recounts all the
wonders which her charms can work;
describes her store of magic fires and
other potent objects. Then breaking
into quicker measure, as if filled with
a fuller frenzy, she continues her in-
cantations accompanied by wild cries
and gestures. She finally dispatches
her sons to Jason's bride with the robe
she has anointed with her magic drugs
and charged with her curses. She
hastens out in the opposite direction.

Third choral interlude. — The chorus
notes and describes Medea's wild
bearing, and prays for her speedy
departure from their city.

464

The Tragedies of Seneca

that her gifts have prevailed for tht-ir
reprieve. (The attendant retires.)

Mrdca contrasts the assured career
of her children with her own hapless
condition; then remembers her resolve

ami with softening heart laments their
dreadful fate. She hastily sends
them within the palace. Left alone,
she again struggles between her
mother-love and her resolve not to
leave her children subject to the scorn
of her foes. (She here leaves the
stage to wait for tidings from the
royal house.)

Then follows a monologue by the
chorus leader discussing the advan-
tages of childlessness. No reference
is made to the passing events.

Medea returns just in time to meet
a messenger who breathlessly an-
nounces the death of Creon and his
daughter. At the request of Medea
he gives a detailed account of the
reception of the magic robe and
crown, the bride's delight, and her
sudden and awful death, in which
her father also was involved. He
urges Medea to fly at once. She an-
nounces her intention to do so as
soon as she has slain her children;
and then rushes into the house.

Fifth choral interlude. — This con-
sists of a single strophe and anti-
strophe in which the chorus calls upon
the gods to restrain Medea's mad act.
Then are heard within the house the
shrieks first of the two children, then
of one, then silence, the chorus mean-
while wildly shouting to Medea to
desist from her deadly work.

The exode. — Jason appears in search
of Medea that he may avenge on her
the death of the royal pair; but most

The exode. — A messenger comes
running in from the direction of the
palace, and announces that the king

Seneca and the Greek Dramas

465

he fears for his children. The chorus
informs him that they arc already

slain within the palace by their
mother's hand. He prepares to force
an entrance into the house.

But now Medea appears in a chariot
drawn by dragons. She defies Jason's
power to harm her. Jason replies by
reproaching her with all the murder-
ous deeds of her life, which have cul-
minated in this crowning deed of
blood. She in turn reproaches him
and his ingratitude as the cause of all.
A storm of mutual imprecations fol-
lows, and Medea disappears with the
bodies of her two sons, denying to
Jason even the comfort of weeping
over their remains.

and his daughter are dead. The
eager questions of the chorus bring
out the strange circumstances attend-
ing till-, pile. Media enters
in time to hear that her magic has been
successful, and ignoring the nurse's
entreaties to flee at once, she becomes
absorbed in her own reflections. And
now in her words may be seen the in-
ward struggle between maternal love
and jealous hate as she nerves herself
for the final act of vengeance. The
purpose to kill her children grows
upon her, resist it as she may, until in
an ecstasy of madness, urged on by a
vision of her murdered brother, she
her first son; and then, bearing
the corpse of one and leading the other
by the hand, she mounts to the turret of
her house. Here with a refinement
of cruelty she slays the second son in
Jason's sight, disregarding his abject
prayers for the boy's life. Now a
chariot drawn by dragons appears in
the air. This Medea mounts and is
borne away, while Jason shouts his
impotent curses after her.

THE HERCULES FURENS OF EURIPIDES, AND THE HERCULES

FURENS OF SENEi V

Prologue. — The old Amphitryon,
before the altar of Jupiter, at the en
trance of the house of Hercules in
Thebes, relates how Hercules has gone
to the lower world to bring them
the realms of day the triple-headed
Cerberus. Meanwhile, Lycus, taking
advantage of the hero's absence, has
slain king Creon and usurped his
throne. The father, wife, and children
of Hercules he has reduced to poverty,
and holds them in durance here in

Prologue. — Juno complains that she

tirly driven out of heaven by her

numerous rivals, mortal women who

have been deified and set in the sky,

either they 1 .r their offspring, by
Jupiter. Espei ially is her wrath hot

against Hercules, against whom she

has waged fruitless war from his in-
famy until now. But he thrives on
hardship, and scorns her opposition.
She passes in review the hard t

which she b 1 I him, and all of

466

The Tragedies of Seneca

Thebes, threatening to slay the sons,

Lot, whin the boys attain niaturer age,
They should avium' thrir Krandsirc, Crcon's,
death.

Amphitryon condoles with Mcgara,

an<l counsels with her how they may

escape the dangers of their present Lot.

Parade, or chorus entry. — The cho-
rus of Theban elders, feeble, tottering
old men, enters and bemoans the
wTetched fate that has befallen their
city and the household of their prince.

First episode. — Now enters Lycus,
the usurper. He insolently taunts his
victims on their helplessness, tells them
that Hercules will never return, be-
littles and scorns the hero's mighty
deeds, and announces his intention of
killing the sons.

Amphitryon answers the slanders of
Lycus against Hercules, and protests
against the proposed barbarous treat-
ment of the children, who are inno-
cent of any harm. He reproaches
Thebes and all the land of Greece,
because they have so ill repaid the
services of their deliverer in not com-
ing to the rescue of his wife and
children. Lycus gives orders to burn
the hated race of Hercules, even where

which he has triumphantly performed.
Already is he claiming a place in
heaven. He can be conquered only
by his own hand. Yes, this shall be
turned against him, for a fury shall be
summoned up from hell who shall
fill his heart with madness; and in this
madness shall he do deeds which shall
make him long for death.

Parode, or chorus entry. — A vivid
picture of the dawning day, when the
stars and waning moon fade out before
the rising sun; when Toil wakes up
and resumes its daily cares; when
through the fields the animals and
birds are all astir with glad, new
life.

But in the cities men awaken to
repeat the sordid round of toil, the
greedy quest for gold and power. But,
whether happily or unhappily, all are
speeding down to the world of shades.
Even before his time has Hercules
gone down to Pluto's realm, and has
not yet returned.

First episode. — Megara enters and
bewails the fresh woes that are ever
ready to meet her husband's home-
coming. She recounts the incidents
of his long and difficult career, his
heroic suffering at Juno's bidding.

And now base Lycus has taken
advantage of her husband's absence
in the lower world to kill her father,
Creon, king of Thebes, and all his sons,
and to usurp the throne —

And Lycus rules the Thebes of Hercules !
She prays her husband soon to come
and right these wrongs, though in her
heart she fears that he will never come
again.

Old Amphitryon tries to reassure
her by recalling the superhuman

Seneca and the Greek Dramas

467

they kneel for refuge at the altar-side;
and threatens the elders who would
thwart his will, bidding them remember

that they are but as slaves in his sight.
Vet the old men valiantly defy him, and
warn him that they will withstand his
attacks upon the children.

But Megara shows them how foolish
it is to contend against the king's
unbounded power. Let them rather
entreat his mercy. Could not exile be
substituted for death ? But no, for
this is worse than death. Rather,
let them all die together. Perhaps
Lycus will allow her to go into the
palace and deck her children in funeral
garments ? This prayer is granted,
though Lycus warns them that they
are to die at once. Left alone, Am-
phitryon chides Jupiter because he
does not care for the children of his
son:

Thou know'st not how
To save thy friends. Thou surely art a god,
Either devoid of wisdom, or unjust.

First choral interlude. — The chorus
sings in praise of the mighty works of
Hercules, describing these in pictur-
esque detail, from the destruction of
the Nemcan lion to his last adventure
which has taken him to the world of
shades, whence, alas, he will never
more return. And meanwhile, lack-
ing his protection, his friends and
family are plunged in hopeless misery.

Second episode. — Forth from the
palace, all dressed in the garb of death,
come Megara and her children. She

valor and strength of Hercules, but
without success.

Now Lycus appears, boasting of the
power which he has gained, not by
long descent from a noble line, but by
his own valor. But his house cannot
stand by valor alone. He must
strengthen his power by union with
some princely house — he will marry
Megara! Should she refuse, he will
give to utter ruin all the house of
Hercules.

Meeting her at the moment, he
attempts with specious arguments to
persuade her to his plan. But Meg-
ara repulses his monstrous proposi-
tion with indignant scorn. Lycus
attempts to defend his slaughter of
her father and brother as done through
the exigency of war, and pleads with
her to put away her wrath; but all
in vain, and in the end he bids his
attendants heap high a funeral pyre
on which to burn the woman and all
her brood.

When Lycus has retired, Amphitry-
on in his extremity prays to heaven for
aid; but suddenly checks himself with
incredulous joy, for he hears approach-
ing the well-known step of Hercules !

First choral interlude. — Verily for-
tune is unjust, for while Eurystheus
sits at ease, the nobler Hercules must
sutler unending hardships. I lis labors
are briefly recapitulated. Now has he
gone to hell to bring bark Cerberus.
Oh, that he may conquer death as all
tilings else, and come back again, as
did Orpheus by the charm of his lyre.

Second episode. — Hercules enl
fresh from the lower world, rejoicing
that he again beholds the light of day,

4(>S

The Tragedies of Seneca

is ready for the doom which lias been
pronounced upon then). She sadly
recalls the fond hopes that she and her
husband had cherished for these sons.
Hut these bright prospects have van-
ished now, for death is waiting to claim
them all, herself as well. She will fold

them in a last motherly embrace, and

pour out her grief:

I low, like the bee with variegated wings,

Shall I collect tin- BOriOWS of you all,
And blend the whole together in a flood
Of tears cxhaustless!

But perhaps even yet her absent lord
has power to intervene in her behalf,
though he be but a ghost. She prays
despairingly that he will come to aid.
Amphitryon would try the favor of Jove
once more in this extremity:

I call on thec, O Jove, that, if thou mean
To be a friend to these deserted children.
Thou interpose without delay and save them;
For soon 'twill be no longer in thy power.

But at this juncture, when no help
seems possible from heaven or hell,
to their amazed joy, Hercules himself
appears, and in the flesh. He per-
ceives the mourning garments of his
family, and the grief-stricken faces of
the chorus, and quickly learns the
cause of all this woe. He at once
plans vengeance upon the wretch who
has wrought it all. He has, himself,
forewarned by a "bird of evil omen
perched aloft," entered Thebes in
secret; and now he will hide within
his own palace and wait until Lycus
comes to fetch the victims whom he
has doomed to death. But first he
briefly replies to Amphitryon's ques-
tions as to the success of his errand
to the lower world.

and exulting in the accomplishment
of his latest and most difficult task;
when suddenly he notices soldiers on
guard, and his wife and children
dressed in mourning garments. He
asks what these things mean. Am-
phitryon answers briefly that I.ycus
has killed Creon and his sons, usurped
the throne, and now has doomed
Megara and her children to death.

Hercules leaves his home at once to
find, and take vengeance on, his enemy,
though Theseus, whom he has rescued
from the world of shades, begs for the
privilege himself of slaying Lycus.
Left with Amphitryon, in reply to the
litter's questions, Theseus gives in
great detail an account of the lower
world, its way of approach, its topog-
raphy, and the various creatures who
dwell within its bounds. After de-
scribing in particular the operations of
justice and the punishment of the
condemned, he tells how Hercules
overcame Cerberus and brought him
to the upper world.

Second choral interlude. — The old

Second choral interlude. — The cho-

Seneca and the Greek Dramas

469

men sing in envy of youth and com-
plaint of old age:

But now a burden on my head
Heavier than Aetna's rock, old age, I bear.

They hold that had the gods been wiser
they would have given renewed youth
as a reward to the virtuous, leaving the
degenerate to fall asleep and wake no
more. And yet, though oppressed by
age, they still may "breathe the strain
Mnemosyne inspires," and sing un-
ceasingly the deeds of Hercules:

Alcidcs, the resistless son of Jove;
Those trophies which to noble birth belong
By him are all surpassed; his forceful hand,
Restoring peace, hath cleansed this monster-
teeming land.

Third episode. — Lycus enters and

encounters Amphitryon without the

palace. Him he bids to go within

and bring out the victims to their

death. To this Amphitryon objects

on the ground that it would make

him an accomplice in their murder.

Whereupon Lycus enters the palace

to do his own errand. The old man,

looking after him, exclaims:

Depart; for to that place the fates ordain
You now are on the road;

while the chorus rejoices that now the
oppressor is so soon to meet his just
punishment. Now the despairing cries
of Lycus are heard within and then —
silence.

Third choral interlude. — All is now

rus, with Theseus' words in mind,
dwell in fancy still upon the lower
world. They follow Hercules along
"that dark way, which to the distant
manes leads," and picture the
thronging shades, the "repulsive
glooms," and the "weary inactivity of
that still, empty universe." They
pray that it may be long ere they
must go to that dread world, to which
all the wandering tribes of earth must
surely come. But away with gloomy
thoughts! Now is the time for joy,
for Hercules is come again. Let
animals and men make holiday, and
fitly celebrate their prince's world-
wide victories, and their own deliver-
ance from their recent woes.

Third episode. — Hercules returns to
his house, fresh from the slaying of
Lycus, and proceeds to offer sacrifices
of thanksgiving to Jupiter. But in
the midst of the sacrifice the madness
planned by Juno begins to come upon
him. His sight is darkened, and his
reason changed to delirium. Now
he catches sight of his children, cower-
ing in fright; he thinks they are the chil-
dren of Lycus, immediately lets fly an
arrow at one of them, and seizes a sec-
ond, whom he drags from the scene.
Amphitryon, standing where h
all that takes place, describes the
wretched death of the second, and then
the third, though Megara tries to
her last remaining child. She also falls
before the blow of her husband, who
thinks in his madness that she is his
cruel stepmother, Juno. Hercules,
re-entering, exults in his supposed
victory over his enemies, and then
sinks down in a deep faint.

Third choral interlude. — The chorus

4;o

The Tragedies of Seneca

joy and exultation. Fear ha-; depart-
ed, hope lias come lurk again, and
faith in the protecting care of the gods
is restored. Therefore, lei all Thebes
give herself up t<> the rapture and
triumph of this hour.

But now two specters arc seen
hovering over the palace, one of whom
introduces herself to the chorus as
Iris, the ambassadress of Juno, and
announces that her companion is a
fir ml, daughter of the night. Their
mission hither is, at the command of
Juno, to drive Hercules into a madness
in which he shall slay his children.
The fiend, indeed, makes a weak
protest against such a mission, but
speedily yields and goes darting into
the palace, where we know that she
begins at once her deadly work within
the breast of Hercules.

The chorus bemoans the city's
short-lived joy, and the new and
terrible disaster that has fallen upon
their hero's house. Soon they hear
the mad shouts of Hercules, and know
by these that the fiend has already
done her fatal work.

Exode. — A messenger hurries out
of the palace, and describes the dread-
ful scenes that have just been enacted
there. Hercules was offering sacri-
fices of purification before Jove's altar,
with his three sons and Megara beside
him. All was propitious, when sud-
denly a madness seized on Hercules.
He ceased his present sacrifice, de-
claring that he must first go to My-
cenae and kill Eurystheus and his
sons, and so make an end of all
his enemies at once. In fancy he
mounted a chariot and speedily arrived
at Mycenae. His own sons seemed
to his disordered vision to be Eurys-

r ills upon heaven, earth, and sea to
mourn for Hercules in this new disas-
ter that has befallen him. They pray
that he may be restored to sanity. In

a long apostrophe i<> Sleep they pray
that the soothing influences of this god
may hold and subdue him until his
former mind returns to its accustomed
course. They watch his feverish
tossings, and suffer with him in the
grief which he so soon must realize.
They close with a pathetic lament over
the dead children.

Exode. — Hercules wakes up in his
right mind, bewildered and uncertain
where he is. His eyes fall on the
murdered children, though he does not
as yet recognize them as his own.
He misses his familiar club and bow,
and wonders who has been bold
enough to remove these and not to fear
even a sleeping Hercules. Now he
recognizes in the corpses his own wife
and children:

Oh, what sight is this ?
My sons lie murdered, weltering in their blood;
My wife is slain. What Lycus rules the land ?
Who could have dared to do such things in

Thebes,
And Hercules returned ?

Seneca and the Greek Dramas

4?i

thcus' sons; and, rushing savagely
upon them, he soon had slain them
all, and Megara herself. Then did
he fall into a deep, swoonlike slumber,
prostrate beside a mighty column, to
which the attendants tied him securely
with cords, lest he awake and do
further mischief.

The palace doors are now thrown
open, and the prostrate, sleeping
Hercules is seen. Amphitryon warns
the chorus not to wake him lest they
restore him to his miseries. Soon
Hercules awakes, and in his right
mind. He seems to himself to have
had a dreadful dream. He looks in
wonder at the cords which bind his
arms, at the fresh-slain corpses lying
near, at his own arrows scattered on
the floor. He calls aloud for some-
one to explain these things to him.
Amphitryon advances and informs
him that in his madness, sent by
Juno's hate, he has destroyed his wife
and all his sons.

And now Theseus, having heard
that Lycus has usurped the throne
of Thebes, and grateful for his own
deliverance from the world of shades
by Hercules, has come with an army
of Athenian youth to aid his friend.
He is shocked to find the hero sitting
in deepest dejection, with head bowed
low, and covered with a mourning-
veil. Quickly he inquires and learns
the truth from Amphitryon. With
noble and unselfish friendship, he offers
his sympathy and help to Hercules,
although the latter warns him to avoid
the contagion which his own guilty
presence engenders. He bids Her-
cules be a man, and give over his
threats of self-destruction.

Hercules gives the reasons why it

He notices that Theseus and Am-
phitryon turn away and will not meet
his gaze. He asks them who has
slain his family. At last, partly through
their half -admissions, and partly
through his own surmise, it comes to
him that this dreadful deed is his own.
His soul reels with the shock, and he
prays wildly for death. No attempts
of his two friends to palliate his deed
can soothe his grief and shame. At
last the threat of old Amphitryon
instantly to anticipate the death of
Hercules by his own leads the hero to
give over his deadly purpose.

He consents to live — but where ?

What land will receive a polluted

wretch like him ? He appeals to

Theseus:

O Theseus, faithful friend, seek out a place.
Far off from here where I may hide myself.

Theseus offers his own Athens as a
place of refuge, where his friend may
find at once asylum and cleansing
from his sin:

My land awaits thy coming; there will Mars
Wash clean thy hands and give thec back thy

arms.
That land, <) Hercules, now calls to thee.
Which even gods from sin is wont to free.

472 The Tragedies of Seneca

is impossible for him to live First,

Juno's inveterate hate, which attacked
him in his very cradle, pursues him
still, relentlessly; hut, most and worst
of all, he has incurred such odium
because of the murder of his wife and
children, that he will he henceforth an
outcast on the earth. No land will
give him refuge now. Why should
he live? Let him die; and let Juno's
cup of happiness be full.

Theseus reminds him that no man
escapes unscathed by fate. Nay, even
the gods themselves have done unlaw-
ful things, and yet live on and do not
feel the obloquy their deeds should
cause. As for a place of refuge,
Athens shall be his home. There
shall he obtain full cleansing for his
crimes, a place of honor, and ample
provision for his wants. All that a
generous and grateful friend can give
shall be his own.

Hercules accepts this offer of The-
seus, reflecting also that he might be
charged with cowardice should he
give up to his troubles and seek refuge
in death. He accordingly takes a
mournful farewell of his dead wife and
children, commends their bodies to
Amphitryon for burial, which it is not
lawful for him to give, and so com-
mits himself to the hands of his faith-
ful friend:

I will follow Theseus,
Towed like a battered skiff. Whoe'er prefers
Wealth or dominion to a steadfast friend

Judges amiss.

THE HIPPOLYTUS OF EURIPIDES, AND THE HIPPOLYTUS OF

SENECA
Prologue. — Venus complains that Prologue. — Hippolytus, in hunting-

Hippolytus alone of all men sets her costume, appears in the court of the
power at naught and owns allegiance palace, which is filled with huntsmen

Seneca and the Greek Dramas

47.3

fJ_

to her rival, Diana. She announces
her plan of revenge: that Phaedra
shall become enamored of her stepson,
that Theseus shall be made aware of
this and in his rage be led to slay his
son. If Phaedra perish too, it will
but add to the triumph of the goddess'
-lighted power.

Hippolytus comes in from the chase
and renders marked homage to Diana.
He is warned by an aged officer of the
palace "to loathe that pride which
studies not to please." Inquiring the
meaning of this warning, he is told to
recognize the presence of Venus, too,
and to include her in his devotions;
but from this advice he turns away in
scorn.

Parode, or chorus entry. — The chorus
of Troezenian women deplores the
strange malady that has befallen the
young queen. They relate how

This is the third revolving day,

Since, o'crpowercd by lingering pains,
She from all nourishment abstains,

ing that lovely frame with slow decay.

At the conclusion of the lyric part of
the chorus, the queen, closely veiled, in
company with her aged nurse, is seen
coming from the palace gates.

J-'irst episode. — Full of anxiety, the
nurse strives to indulge her mistress'
every whim. Phaedra answers feebly
at first, but suddenly, to the amaze-
ment of her companion, her speech is
Oiled with language of the chase, and
she again relapses into her mute leth-
argy. At last, under the insistence of the
nurse to probe her mystery, Phaedra
confesses that the wretched fate of her
house pursues her, too, and that she
now feels the torments of love; and,
though she does not speak his name,

bearing nets and all sorts of hunting-
weapons, and leading dogs in leash.
The young prince, in a long, rambling
speech, assigns places for the hunt, and
their duties to his various servants and
companions. He ends with an elabo-
rate ascription of praise to his patroness
Diana, as goddess of the chase, and
with a prayer to her for success in his
own present undertaking. The whole
speech is in lyric strain, the anapestic
measure, most commonly employed
by Seneca.

Parode, or chorus entry. — The tech-
nical chorus entry is entirely lacking in
this play. While the chorus may be as-
sumed to have entered and to have been
present during the long interview be-
tween Phaedra and her nurse, which
forms the first episode, still its presence
is in no way manifested until the end
of this interview.

First episode. — Phaedra bewails her
present lot, in that she has been forced
to leave her native Crete, and live in
wedlock with her father's enemy. And
even he has now deserted her, gone to
the very realms of Dis, in company
with a madcap friend, to seduce and
bear away the gloomy monarch's
queen. But a worse grief than this is
preying on her soul. She feels in her
own heart the devastating power of
unlawful love, which has already
destroyed all the natural interests of

/

474

The Tragedies of Seneca

the truth at last is dear that Hippoly-
t us is the object of her passion. The

DUTSe iv, oils in horror and shame from

this confession.

Phaedra describes how she has
Struggled against her unhappy love,
but in vain, and is now resolved on
death in order to save her honor. At
this the nurse throws all her influence
in the opposite scale, arguing that, after
all, the sway of Venus is universal,
that it is only human to iove, and that
this is no reason why one should cast
his life away. She even proposes to
acquaint Hippolytus with her mistress'
feelings, and strive to win his love in
return. This proposal Phaedra in-
dignantly rejects. The nurse then
offers to fetch from the house certain
philters which will cure the queen of
her malady. The queen reluctantly
consents to this, and the nurse retires
into the palace.

First choral interlude. — The chorus
prays that love may never come upon
its breast with immoderate power, and
relates instances of the resistless sway
of Venus and her son.

Second episode. — Phaedra, standing
near the doors of the palace, suddenly
becomes agitated, and utters despair-
ing cries. The chorus, inquiring the
cause of these, is told to listen. At

her life. She recalls her mother's
Unhappy passion; but this was bear-
able compared with her own. For
Venus has, from deadly hatred of her
family, filled her with a far more hope-
less love. She does not name the
object of her passion, but, from her
guarded references, it is clear that
Hippolytus, her stepson, is meant.

The nurse urges her mistress to drive
this passion from her breast, moraliz-
ing upon the danger of delay. Has
not her house already known sinful
love enough ? Such love is dangerous
for it cannot long be hid. Granting
that Theseus may never return to
earth, can her sin be concealed from
her father ? from her grandsires, both
gods of heaven ? And what of her own
conscience ? Can she ever be happy
or at peace with such a sin upon her
soul ? She pictures her mistress'
passion in all its hideousness. Be-
sides, it is most hopeless, since Hip-
polytus, woman-hater that he is, can
never be brought to respond to it.
Phaedra yields to these arguments and
entreaties of the nurse, and says that
now she is resolved upon death as her
only refuge. Hereupon the nurse
(the usual role) begs her not to take
this desperate course, and undertakes
to bend Hippolytus to their will.

First choral interlude. — The chorus
sings at length upon the universal and
irresistible sway of love.

Second episode. — On the inquiry of
the chorus as to how the queen is faring,
the nurse describes the dreadful effect
which this malady of love has already
produced upon her. Then the palace

Seneca and the Greek Dramas

475

first there is only a confused murmur
from within; but this soon resolves
itself into the angry denunciations of
Hippolytus and the pleading tones of
the nurse. By these Phaedra learns
that the nurse has indeed revealed the
fatal secret to Hippolytus under an
oath that he will not betray the truth
to anyone, and that the youth has
received the announcement with horror
and scorn. He breaks forth into bitter
reproaches against all womankind.
He regrets that his lips are sealed by
his oath, else would he straightway
reveal to Theseus all his wife's un-
faithfulness.

Phaedra, on her side, reproaches the
nurse for betraying her secret. She
angrily dismisses her, and, after exact-
ing an oath of silence from the chorus,
goes out, reiterating her resolve to die,
and suggests that she has one expedient
left by which her name may be pre-
served from infamy, and her sons from
dishonor.

doors open, and Phaedra is seen'
reclining upon a couch, attended by
her tiring-women. She rejects all the
beautiful robes and jewels which they
offer, and desires to be dressed as a
huntress, ready for the chase.

The nurse prays to Diana to conquer
the stubborn soul of Hippolytus and
bend his heart toward her mistress.
At this moment the youth himself
enters and inquires the cause of the
nurse'3 distress.

Thereupon ensues a long debate, in
which the nurse chides Hippolytus for
his austere life and argues that the
pleasures of life .were meant to be
enjoyed, and that no life comes to its
full fruition unless youth is given free
rein. The young man replies by a
rhapsody on the life of the woods, so
full of simple, wholesome joys, and so
free from all the cares of life at court
and among men. He compares this
with the Golden Age, and traces the
gradual fall from the innocence of
that time to the abandoned sin of the
present. He concludes with laying all
the blame for this upon woman.

Phaedra now comes forth, and,
seeing Hippolytus, falls fainting, but is
caught in the young man's arms. He
attempts to reassure her and inquires
the cause of her evident grief. After
much hesitation, she at last confesses
her love for him and begs him to pity
her. With scorn and horror he re-
pulses her and starts to kill her with
his sword; but, deciding not so to
stain his sword, he throws the weapon
away and makes off toward the forest.

The nurse now plans to save her
mi-tress by inculpating Hippolytus.
She accordingly calls loudly for help,
and tells the attendants who come

476

The Tragedies of Seneca

Second choral interlude. — The chorus
prays to l>e wafted fat away from these

SCenea of woe; and laments that the
hapless queen had ever come front
Crete, for then she would not now be
doomed by hopeless love to sclf-
inflicted death.

Third episode. — A messenger hur-
riedly enters with the announcement
that the queen has destroyed herself by
the noose. The chorus, though grieved,
manifests no surprise at this, and is
divided as to a plan of action. And
now enters Theseus, who demands
the cause of the lamentations of the
servants, which may be heard from
within the palace. He learns from
the chorus the fact and manner, but
not the cause, of Phaedra's death.

The palace doors are now thrown
open and the shrouded body of the
queen is discovered within. Theseus,
in an agony of lamentations, seeks to
know the cause of his queen's death.
He at length discovers a letter clasped
in her dead hand, by which he is in-
formed that Phaedra has slain herself
in grief and shame because her honor
has been violated by the king's own
son, Hippolytus. Thereupon Theseus
curses his son, and calls on Neptune
to destroy him, offering this as one of
the three requests which, in accordance
with the promise of the god, should not
be denied.

Here enters Hippolytus, hearing the
sound of his father's voice. He looks
in amazement upon the corpse of
Phaedra, and begs his father to explain
her death. Theseus, supposing that

rushing in that the youth has attempt
cd an assault upon the queen, and
shows his sword in evidence.

Second choral interlude.- — The chorus
dwells upon and praises the beauty of
Hippolytus, and discourses upon the
theme that beauty has always been a
dangerous possession, citing various
mythological instances in proof of this.

Third episode. — Theseus, just re-
turned to earth from hades, and with
all the horrors of the lower world still
upon him, briefly refers to his dreadful
experiences and his escape by the aid
of Hercules. Then, hearing the
sounds of lamentation, he asks the
cause. He is told by the nurse that
Phaedra, for some reason which she
will not disclose, has resolved on
immediate self-destruction. Rushing
into the palace, he encounters Phaedra
just within. After urgent entreaties
and threats from Theseus, she confes-
ses that she is determined to die in
order to remove the stain upon her
honor; and without mentioning the
name of him who has ruined her, she
shows the sword which Hippolytus
has left behind in his flight. This is
at once recognized by Theseus, who
flies into a wild passion of horror, rage,
and bitter scorn. He vows dire ven-
geance upon his son, which shall reach
him wherever he may flee; and ends
by claiming from Neptune, as the
third of the boons once granted him,
that the god will destroy Hippolytus.

Seneca and the Greek Dramas

477

his son conceals a guilty conscience,
makes no direct answer, but inveighs
against the specious arts of man. This
strange speech, and still more the
manner of his father, now show Hip-
polytus that he himself is connected in
his father's mind with Phaedra's
death; and he seeks to know who has
thus calumniated him. The wrath
of Theseus now breaks overall bounds.
He charges his son with the dishonor
and murder of his wife, and with
withering scorn taunts him with his
former professions of purity. Hip-
polytus protests his innocence, but
Theseus continues obdurate, and pro-
duces the fatal letter in proof of his
statements. Then the youth realizes
the terrible mesh of circumstances in
which he is taken; but, bound by his
oath of secrecy, he endures in silence.
After Theseus has pronounced the
doom of exile upon him, and retired
within the gates, he himself goes forth
to seek his comrades and acquaint
them with his fate.

Third choral interlude. — The chorus
retlects upon the precarious lifeof man,
lauds the golden mean, and prays for
the blessings of life without conspicu-
ous fame. No man can hope for con-
tinued security in life, when such a
youth as Hippolytus is driven off by
Theseus' ire. It laments that no
longer will his steeds, his lyre, his
wonted woodland haunts know the
well-loved youth; and reproaches the
gods that they did not better screen
their guiltless votary.

Exode. — The last words of the cho-
rus are interrupted by the approach of
a messenger who hastily inquires for

Third choral interlude. — The chorus
complains that while nature is so care-
ful to maintain the order of the heaven-
ly bodies, the atmospheric phenomena,
the seasons, and the productiveness of
wealth, for the affairs of men alone
she has no care. These go all awry.
Sin prospers and righteousness is in
distress. Verily, it dues not at all
profit a man to strive to live uprightly,
since all the rewards of life go to the
vain and profligate. While the
of Hippolytus is not mentioned, it is
clearly in mind throughout.

Exode. — A messenger, hurrying in,
announces to Theseus the death of his
son. Theseus receives the news

47«

The Tragedies of Seneca

the king. As the latter comes forth
from the palace, the messenger an-
nounces the death of his son. At the
kind's request he gives a detailed ac-
count of the disaster: how Hippolytus

was driving his fiery coursers along the
shore, when Neptune sent a monstrous
hull from out the sea, which drove the
horses to B panic of fear; how the car
w.i> at length dashed against a ragged
cliff, and Hippolytus dragged, bruised
and bleeding, by the maddened horses;
how, though yet living, he could not
long survive. Theseus expresses pleas-
ure at his son's sufferings, and bids
that he be brought into his presence
that he may behold his punishment.

The chorus interjects a single
strophe, acknowledging Venus as the
unrivaled queen of heaven and earth.

Diana now appears to Theseus and
reveals to him the whole truth, ex-
plaining the infatuation of the queen,
the fatal letter, and the wiles of Venus.
The father is filled with horror and
remorse. Diana tells him that he may
yet hope for pardon for his sin, since
through the wiles of Venus, which she
herself could not frustrate, the deed
was done.

Here the dying Hippolytus is borne
in by his friends. In his agony he
prays for death; but by the voice of
his loved goddess he is soothed and
comforted. After a touching scene
of reconciliation between the dying
prince and his father, the youth
perishes, leaving Theseus overcome
with grief.

calmly and asks for a detailed account.
The messenger relates how Hippolytus
had yoked his horses to his car and
was driving madly along the highway
by the sea, when suddenly the waves
swelled up and launched a strange
monster in the form of a bull upon the
land. This monster charged upon
Hippolytus, who fronted the beast with
unshaken courage. But in the end
the horses became unmanageable
through fright, and dragged their
master to his death among the rocks.
The body of the hapless Hippolytus
has been torn in pieces and scattered
far and wide through the fields; and
even now attendants are bringing
these in for burning on the pyre.
Theseus laments, not because his son
is dead, but because it is through his,
the father's, act.

The chorus expatiates upon the
fact that the blows of fate fall heavily
upon men of exalted condition, but
spare the humble. The great The-
seus, once so mighty a monarch, but
now so full of woe, is an example of
this truth. It has not profited him
to escape from hades, since now his
son has hastened thither.

But now their attention is turned to
Phaedra who appears, wailing aloud,
and with a drawn sword in hand.
She rails at Theseus as the destroyer
of his house, weeps over the mangled
remains of Hippolytus, confesses to
Theseus that her charge against his
son was false, and ends by falling upon
the sword.

Theseus, utterly crushed by the
weight of woe that has fallen upon
him, prays only that he may return to
the dark world from which he has
just escaped.

Seneca and the Greek Dramas

479

The chorus reminds him that he will
find ample time for mourning, and
that he should now pay due funeral
honors to his son. Wherpat Theseus
bids all the fragments be hunted out
and brought before him. These he
fits together as best he can, lamenting
bitterly as each new gory part is
brought to him.

He ends by giving curt command for
the burial of Phaedra, with a prayer
that the earth may rest heavily upon
her.

THE MAIDENS OF TRACHIN OF SOPHOCLES, AND THE HERCU-
LES OETAEUS OF SENECA

Prologue. — In the courtyard of her
palace in Trachin, Deianira recounts
to her attendants and the chorus of
Trachinian maidens how her husband
had won her from the river god,
Acheloiis, and how, during all these
years, she has lived in fear and long-
ing for her husband, who has been
kept constantly wandering over the
earth by those who hold him in their
power; and even now he has been for
many months absent, she knows not
where.

An old servant proposes that she
send her son, Hyllus, abroad to seek
out his father. This the youth, who
enters at this juncture, readily prom-
ises to do, especially on hearing from
his mother that the oracle declares this
is the year in which his father shall
end his life,

Or, having this his task accomplished,

Shall, through the coming years of all his life,

Rejoice and prosper.

Parode, or chorus entry. — The cho-
rus prays to Helios, the bright sun-god,

Prologue. — Hercules, about to sacri-
fice to Cenaean Jove after having
conquered Eurytus, king of Oechalia,
recounts at length his mighty toils on
earth, and prays that now at last he
may be given his proper place in
heaven. He dispatches his herald,
Lichas, home to Trachin, to tell the
news of his triumph, and to conduct
the train of captives thither.

Parode, or chorus entry. — The place
of the chorus entry, which should be

480

The Tragedies of Seneca

for tidings of Hercules, for Deianira
longs for him, and "ever nurses unfor-
getting dread as to her husband's
paths." Hercules is tossed upon the

stormy sea of life, now up, now down,
but ever kept from death liy some god's
hands. Deianira should, therefore,

be comforted:

l'.ir who hath known in Zeus forgetfulncss
Of those he children calls?

First episode. — Deianira confides to
the chorus her special cause for grief:
she feels a strong presentiment that
Hercules is dead; for, when he last
left home, he left a tablet, as it were
a will, disposing of his chattels and
his lands,

and fixed a time,
That when for one whole year and three

months more
He from his land was absent, then 'twas his
Or in that self-same hour to die, or else,
Escaping that one crisis, thenceforth live

with life unvexed.

At this moment, however, a messen-
ger enters and announces the near
approach of Hercules accompanied by
his spoils of victory.

First choral interlude. — The chorus
voices its exultant joy over this glad
and unexpected news.

filled by the chorus proper, composed
of Aetolian maidens, is taken by the
band of captive Occhalian maidens.
They bewail their lot and long for
death; they dwell upon the utter
desolation of their fatherland, and
upon the hard hearledness of Hercules
who has laid it waste.

Iole, their princess, joins in their
lamentations, recalls the horrors of
her native city's overthrow, and
looks forward with dread to her cap-
tivity.

First episode. — During the interval
just preceding this episode, the cap-
tives have been led to Trachin, Deia-
nira has seen the beauty of Iole, and
learned of Hercules' infatuation for
her. She has by this news been
thrown into a mad rage of jealousy,
and counsels with her nurse as to how
she may take vengeance upon her
faithless husband, while the nurse
vainly advises moderation.

The nurse at last suggests recourse
to magic, professing herself to be pro-
ficient in these arts. This suggests to
Deianira the use of that blood of Nes-
sus which the dying centaur had com-
mended to her as an infallible love-
charm. She takes occasion to relate
at length the Nessus incident. She
at once acts upon her decision to use
the charm; and speedily, with the
nurse's aid, a gorgeous robe is anointed
with the blood, and this is sent by
Lichas' hand to Hercules.

First choral interlude. — The chorus
of Aetolian women, who have followed
Deianira from her girlhood's home to
this refuge in Trachin, now tender
to her their sympathy in her present
sufferings. They recall all their past

Seneca and the Greek Dramas 481

Second episode. — Lichas, the per-
sonal herald of Hercules, now enters,
followed by Iole and a company of
captive women. He explains to
Deianira how Hercules had been
driven on by petty persecutions to
slay Iphitus, the son of Eurytus,
treacherously; how he had for this
been doomed by Zeus to seive Om-
phale, queen of Lydia, for a year; and
how in revenge he has now slain
Eurytus, and even now is sending
home these Oechalian captives as
spoil; Hercules himself is delaying
yet a little while in Euboea, until he-
has sacrificed to Cenaean Jove.

Deianira looks in pity upon the
captives praying that their lot may
never come to her or hers; and is
especially drawn in sympathy to one
beautiful girl, who, however, will
answer no word as to her name and
state.

As all are passing into the palace,
the messenger detains Deianira and
tells her the real truth which Lichas
has withheld: that this seemingly
unknown girl is Iole, daughter of
Eurytus; that it was not in revenge
but for love of Iole that Hercules
destroyed her father's house, and
that he is now sending her to his own

intercourse with her, and assure her
of their undying fidelity.

This suggests the rarity of such
fidelity especially in the courts of
kings, and they discourse at large upon
the sordidness and selfishness of court-
iers in general. The moral of their
discourse is that men should not
aspire to great wealth and power, but
should choose a middle course in
life, which only can bring happiness.

Second episode. — Deianira comes
hurrying distractedly out of the palace,
and relates her discovery as to the
horrible and deadly power of the
charm which she has sent to her
husband.

While she is still speaking, Hyllus
rushes in and cries out to his mother
to flee from the wrath of Hercules,
whose dreadful sufferings, after put-
ting on the robe which his wife had
sent to him, the youth describes at
length. He narrates also the death
of Lichas. The suffering hero is even
now on his way by sea from Euboea,
in a death-like swoon, and will soon
arrive at Trachin.

Deianira, smitten with quick repent-
ance, begs Jupiter to destroy her with
his wrathful thunderbolts. She re-
solves on instant self-destruct ion,
though Hyllus and the nurse vainly
try to dissuade her, and to belittle her
responsibility for the disaster; and in
the end she rushes from the scene,
Hyllus following.

♦8a

The Tragedies of Seneca

booie not as his slaw, hut mistress,
and rival of his wife.

Lichas, returning from the palace,
on being challenged by the messenger

ami urged by Deianira to speak tin-
whole truth, tills all concerning Her-
cules1 love for Iole.

Deianira receives this revelation
with seeming equanimity and acqui-
escence.

Second choral interlude. — The cho-
rus briefly reverts to the battle of Ache-
loiis and Hercules for the hand of
Deianira-

Third episode. — Deianira tells to the
chorus the story of how Nessus, the
centaur, had once insulted her, and
for this had been slain by Hercules
with one of his poisoned arrows; how,
also, the centaur in dying had given
her a portion of his blood, saying this
would be a charm able to restore to
her her husband's wandering love.
She now resolves to use this charm.
She anoints a gorgeous robe with the
blood which she has preserved through
all these years, and bids Lichas carry
this to her lord as a special gift from
her. He is to wear it as he offers his

Second choral interlude. — The cho
rus, contemplating the changing fates
of their prince's house, is reminded of
the saying of Orpheus, "that naught
for endless life is made." This leads
to an extended description of Orpheus'
sweet music and its power over all
things, both animate and inanimate,
and suggests the story of his unsuccess-
ful attempt to regain Eurydice.

Returning to the original theme, the
chorus speculates upon the time when
all things shall fall into death, and chaos
resume her primeval sway.

It is startled out of these thoughts
by loud groans, which prove to be the
outcries of Hercules, borne home to
Trachin.

Third episode. — Hercules in his
ravings warns Jove to look well to his
heavens, since now their defender is
perishing. The giants will be sure
to rise again and make another attempt
upon the skies. He bitterly laments
that he, who has overcome so many
monsters, must die at last, slain by a
woman's hand, and that woman not
Juno, nor even an Amazon:

Ah, woe is me,
How often have I 'scaped a glorious death !
What honor comes from such an end as this?

His burning pains coming on again,
he cries out in agony, and describes

Seneca and the Greek Dramas 483

sacrifices to Cenaean Jove. Lichas the abject misery and weakness that
departs upon this mission. have come upon him Are these the

shoulders, the hands, the feet, that
were once so strong to bear, so terrible
to strike, so swift to go? He strives
to apprehend and tear away the pest
that is devouring him, but it is too
deep-hidden in his frame. He curses
the day that has seen him weep and
beseeches Jove to smite him dead with
a thunderbolt.

Alcmena enters, and, while she
herself is full of grief, she strives to
soothe and comfort her suffering son.
He falls into a delirium, and thinks
that he is in the heavens, looking
down upon Trachin. But soon he
awakes, and, realizing his pains once
more, calls for the author of his misery,
that he may slay her with his own
hands.

Hyllus, who has just entered from
the palace, now informs his father that
Deianira is already dead, and by her
own hand; that it was not her fault,
moreover, but by the guile of Nessus,
that Hercules is being done to death.
The hero recognizes in this the fulfil-
ment of an oracle once delivered to
him-
By the hand of one whom thou hast slain,

some day.
Victorious Hrrculcs, shah thou lie low.

And he comforts himself with the
reflection that such an end as this is
meet, for

Thus shall no conqueror of Hercules
Survive to tell the tale.

He now bids Philoctetes prepare a
mighty pyre on neighboring Mount
Oeta, and there take and burn his body (
still in life. Hyllus he bids to take the
captive princess, I' •!<•, to wife. He
calls upon his mother, Alcmena, to

■Is!

Tim: Tragkdies or Seneca

Thin! choral interlude. — The chorus
prays for the early and safe return of

llm ules from where In- lingers:

Thence may lie come, yea, come with strong
desire,
Tempered by suasivc spell
Of that rich unguent, as the monster spake.

Fourth episode. — Dcianira discovers
by experiment, now that it is too late,
the destructive and terrible power of
the charm which she has sent, and is
filled with dire forebodings as to the
result.

Her lamentations are interrupted by
Hyllus, who comes hurrying in; he
charges his mother with the murder of
his father, and curses her. He then
describes the terrible sufferings that
have come upon the hero through the
magic robe, and how Hercules, in the
madness of pain, has slain Lichas, as
the immediate cause of his sufferings.
He has brought his father with him
from Euboea to Trachin. Deianira
withdraws into the palace, without a
word, in an agony of grief.

Fourth choral interlude. — The cho-
rus recalls the old oracle that after
twelve years the son of Zeus should
gain rest from toil, and sees in his
impending death the fulfilment of
this oracle. They picture the grief of
Deianira over her act, and foresee the
great changes that are coming upon
their prince's house.

comfort her jjrief by pride in her f^rcat
son's deeds on earth, and the noble
fame which he has gained thereby.

Third choral interlude. — The chorus
bids all nature mourn the death of
Hercules. Verily the earth is bereft of
her defender, and there is no one left to
whom she may turn if again harassed
by monsters. They speculate upon
the place of the departed Hercules.
Shall he sit in judgment among the
pious kings of Crete in hades, or shall
he be given a place in heaven ? At
least on earth he shall live in deathless
gratitude and fame.

Seneca and the Greek Dramas

485

Fijth episode. — The nurse rushes in
from the palace, and tells how Deianira
has slain herself with the sword, be-
wailing the while the sufferings which
she has unwittingly brought on Her-
cules; and how Hyllus repents him of
his harshness toward his mother,
realizing that she was not to blame.

Fijth choral interlude. — The chorus
pours out its grief for the double
tragedy. And now it sees Hyllus and
attendants bearing in the dying
Hercules.

Exode. — Hercules, awaking from
troubled sleep, laments the calamity
that has befallen him; he chides the
lands which he has helped, that now
they do not hasten to his aid; and
prays Hyllus to kill him with the
-word, and so put him out of his
misery.

He denounces Deianira because she
has brought suffering and destruction
upon him which no foe, man or beast,
has ever been able to bring. He curs-
es his own weakness, and laments that
he must weep and groan like a
woman.

He marvels that his mighty frame,
which for years has withstood so many
monsters, which he recounts at length,
can now be so weak and wasted.
Reverting to his wife, he bids that
she be brought to him that he may
visit punishment upon her.
• Mlyllus informs his father that De-
ianira has died by her own hand, for
grief at what she has unwittingly
brought upon her dear lord. It was,
indeed, through Nessus' guile that the
deed was done.

Hercules, on hearing this, recogniz-
es the fulfilment of the oracle;

Exode. — Philoctetes enters, and, in
response to the questions of the nurse,
describes the final scene on Oeta's top.
There a mighty pyre is built, on
which Hercules joyfully takes his
place. There he reclines, gazing at
the heavens, and praying his father,
Jupiter, to take him thither, in com
pensation for his service on the earth.
His prayer seems to be answered, and
he cries aloud:

"But lo, my father calls me from the sky,
And opens wide the gates. O sire, I come!"
And as he spake his face was glorified.

He presents his famous bow and
armws to Philoctetes, bidding him
for this prize apply the torch and light
the pyre, which his friend most rehh -
tantly does. The hero courts the
flames, and eagerly presses into the
very heart of the burning mass.

In the midst of this narrative, Alc-
mena enters, bearing in her bosom an
urn containing the ashes of Hercules.
The burden of her lament is thai
small a compass and so pitiful estate
have come to the mighty body of her
son, which one small urn ran hold.
But when she thinks upon his deed-.,
her thoughts fly to the opposite pole:

486

The Tragedies of Seneca

Long tutce it mi r< veiled of my sire

That I should die 1>\ hand of none that live.

Hut one who, dead, had dwelt in hadea <lark.
He exacts an oath of obedience from

1 1 \ 11 us, and then l>i<ls him bring his
father to Mount Oeta, and there place
him upon a pyre for burning. Hyllus
reluctantly consents in all hut the
actual tiring of the pyre. The next
request is concerning Iole, that Hyllus
should take her as his wife. This
mandate he indignantly refuses to
obey, but finally yields assent. And
in the end Hercules is borne away to
his burning, while the chorus mourn-
fully chants its concluding comment:

What comcth no man may know;
What is, is piteous for us,
Base and shameful for them;

And for him who endureth this woe,
Above all that live hard to bear.

What lepulcher, <> son, what tomb for thee
Is great enough? Naught save the world it-

self.

Then she takes up in quickened
measures her funeral song of mourning,
in the midst of which the deified
1 [ercules, taking shape in the air above,
speaks to his mother, bidding her no
longer mourn, for he has at last gained
his place in heaven.

The chorus strikes a fitting final

note, that the truly brave are not

destined to the world below:

But when life's days are all consumed,
And comes the final hour, for them
A pathway to the gods is spread
By glory.

THE TROADES OF EURIPIDES, AND THE TROADES OF SENECA

Prologue. — Neptune appearing from
the depths of the sea, briefly recounts
the story of the overthrow of Troy,
which he laments, states the present
situation of the Trojan women, dwells
upon the especial grief of Hecuba,
and places the blame for all this ruin
upon Minerva:

But, oh my town, once flourishing, once
crowned

With beauteous-structured battlements, fare-
well!

Had not Minerva sunk thee in the dust.

On thy firm base e'en now thou mightst have
stood.

To him appears Minerva, who,
though she had indeed helped the
Greeks to their final triumph over
Troy, had been turned against them
by the outrage of Cassandra on the
night of Troy's overthrow. She now
makes common cause with Neptune,

Prologue. — Hecuba bewails the fall

of Troy, and draws from it a warning

to all who are high in power:

For of a truth did fortune never show
In plainer wise the frailty of the prop
That doth support a king.

She graphically describes the mighty
power and mighty fall of her husband's
kingdom, and portrays the awe with
which the Greeks behold even their
fallen foe. She asserts that the fire by
which her city has been consumed
sprang from her, the brand that she
had dreamed of in her dream before
the birth of Paris. She dwells hor-
ribly upon the death of Priam which
she had herself witnessed.
But still the heavenly powers are not appeased.
The captives are to be allotted to the
Greek chiefs, and even now the urn
stands ready for the lots.

S E NE CA AND THE GREEK DRAMAS

■ls7

and plans for the harassing of the
Greek fleet by storm and flood on the
homeward voyage. The Greeks are
to be taught a lesson of reverence:

t'nwise is he, whoe'er of mortals storms
Beleaguered towns, and crushed in ruins

wastes
The temples of the gods, the hallowed tombs
Where sleep the dead; for he shall perish soon.

[The two gods disappear.]
Hecuba, lying prone upon the
ground before Agamemnon's tent,
gives voice to her sufferings of body
and of spirit; laments her accumu-
lated losses of home, friends, station,
liberty; blames Helen for all, and
calls upon the chorus of captive
women to join her in lamentation.

Parade, or chorus entry. — The chorus
with Hecuba indulges in speculation
as to the place of their future home,
speaking with hope of some Greek
lands, and deprecating others.

First episode. — Talthybius, the hcr-
ald, enters and announces that the
lots have been drawn, and reveals to
each captive her destined lord: that
Cassandra has fallen to Agamemnon,
Andromache to Pyrrhus, Hecuba to
Ulysses. At news of this her fate,
Hecuba is filled with fresh lamenta-
tions, counting it an especial hardship
that she should fall to the arch-enemy
of her race. The herald also darkly
alludes to the already accomplished
fate of Polyxena,
At the tomb raised to At hides doomed to

Hecuba does not as yet catch the

import of these word-.

Cassandra no w enters, waving a
t orch, and celebrates in a mad refrain
her approaching union with Agamem-

Hecuba next calls upon the chorus
of Trojan women to join her in lament-
ing their fallen heroes, Hector and
Priam.

Parode, or chorus entry. — The cho-
rus, under the direction of Hecuba as
chorus leader, in true oriental fashion,
bewails the downfall of Troy, and in
] (articular the death of Priam and
Hector.

First episode. — Talthybius announ-
ces that the shade of Achilles has ap-
peared with the demand that Polyxena
be sacrificed upon the hero's tomb.

Enter Pyrrhus and Agamemnon,
the former demanding that his father's
request be carried out, the latter resist-
ing the demand as too barbarous to be
entertained^ It is finally agreed to
leave the decision to Calchas. He is
accordingly summoned, and at once
dei lares that only by the death of the
maiden can the Greeks be allowed
to set sail for home. And not this
alone, but Astyanax also must In-
sacrificed — hurled from the lofty
Scacan tower of Troy.

♦88

The Tragedies of Seneca

non. Elecuba remonstrates with ber
fur ber unseemly joy; whereupon
Cassandra declares thai sin- rejoices
in the prospect <>f the vengeant e upon
Agamemnon which is to be wrought
out through this union. She contrasts
the lot of the Greeks and Trojans dur-
ing the past ten years, and finds that
the latter have been far happier; and
even in her fall, the woes of Troy are
far less than those that await the
( in ck chieftains. She then prophesies
in detail the trials that await Ulysses,
and the dire result of her union with
Agamemnon:

Thou shalt bear me
A fury, an Krinys bom this land.

Hecuba here falls in a faint, and,

upon being revived, again recounts

her former high estate, sadly contrasts

with that her present condition, and

shudders at the lot of the slave which

awaits her:

Then deem not of the great
Now flourishing as happy, ere they die.

I'irst choral interlude. — The chorus
graphically describes the wooden
horse, its joyful reception by the Tro-
jans into the city, their sense of relief
from danger, and their holiday spirit;
and at last their horrible awakening to
death at the hands of the Greeks with-
in the walls.

First choral interlude. — The chorus
maintains that all perishes with the
body; the soul goes out into nothing-
ness:

For when within the tomb we're laid,

No soul remains, no ho v 'ring shade.

Like curling smoke, like clouds before the

blast,
This animating spirit soon has passed.

The evident purpose of these consider-
ations is to discount the story that
Achilles' shade could have appeared
with its demand for the death of Polyx-
ena.

Second episode. — The appearance of Second episode. — -Andromache ap-

Andromache with Astyanax in her pears with Astyanax and recounts a

arms, borne captive on a Grecian car, vision of Hector which she has had, in

is a signal for general mourning. which her dead husband has warned

Seneca and the Greek Dramas

489

She announces her own chief cause of

woe:

I, with my child, am led away, the si>oil
Of war; th' illustrious progeny of kinns,
Oh, fatal change, ia sunk to slavery.

Her next announcement comes as a
still heavier blow to Hecuba:

Polyzena, thy daughter, is no more;
• Devoted to Achilles, on his tomb,

An offering to the lifeless dead, she fell.

Andromache insists that Polyxena's

fate is happier than her own; argues

that in death there is no sense of

misery:

Polyzena is dead, and of her ills
Knows nothing;

while Andromache still lives to feel
the keen contrast between her former
and her present lot.

Hecuba is so sunk in woe that she
can make no protest, but advises
Andromache to forget the past and

honor thy present lord.
And with thy gentle manners win his soul;

this with the hope that she may be
the better able to rear up Astyanax to
establish once more some day the
walls and power of Troy.

But the heaviest stroke is yet to fall.
Talthybius now enters and annou
with much reluctance that Ulysses
has prevailed up>n the (ireeks to de-
mand the death <>\ Astyanax for the
very reason that he may grow up to
renew the Trojan war. The lad is to
be hurled from a still standing tower
of Troy. The herald warns Andro-
mai he that if she resist this mandate-
she may be endangering the boy's
funeral rites. She yields to fate, pas-
sionately caressing the boy, who < lini^s
fearfully to her, partly realizing his
terrible situation. The emotional cli-

her to hide the boy away beyond the
reach of threatening danger. After
discussion with an old man as to tin-
best place of concealment, she hides
Astyanax in Hector's tomb which is
in the near background.

Enter Ulysses, who reluctantly an-
nounces that Calchas has warned the
Greeks that they must not allow the
son of Hector to grow to manhood;
for if they do so, the reopening of the
Trojan war will be only a matter of
time, and the work will have to be done
all over again. He therefore asks
Andromache to give up the boy to
him. Then ensues a war of wits
between the desperate mother and the
crafty Greek. She affects not to
know where the boy is — he is lost.
But if she knew, no power on earth
should take him from her. Ulysses
thread as death, which she welcomes;
he threatens torture, which she- scorns.
She at last states that her son is
'^among the dead." Ulysses, taking
these words at their face meaning,
starts off gladly to tell the news to tin-
Greeks, but suddenly reflects that he
has no proof but the mother's word.
He then fore begins to watch Andro-
mache more narrowly, and discovers
that her bearing is not that of one who
has put her grief behind her, but of
one who is still in suspense and fear.
To test her, he suddenly calls to his
attendants to hunt out the boy.
king beyond her he ( Ties: "Good!
he's found! bring him to me." Where-
at Andromache's agitation proves
that the boy is indeed not dead but in
hiding. Where is he hid? IT
fori es her to choose between the living
boy and the dead husband; for, unless
her son is forthcoming, Hector's

400

The Tragedies of Seneca

max of the play is reached, as she
says to the dinging, frightened lad:

Why (lost thou clasp mc with thy hands, why

hold
My robes, anil iheltei thee beneath my wings
Like a young bird ?

She bitterly upbraids the Greeks for

their cruelty, and curses Helen as the
cause of all her woe, and then gives
the boy up in an abandonment of
defiant grief:

Here, take him, bear him, hurl him from the

height.
If ye must hurl him; feast upon his flesh:
For from the gods hath ruin fall'n on us.

And now what more can happen ?
Surely the depth of misfortune has
been sounded. In the voice of Hecu-
ba:

Is there an ill
Wc have not ? What is wanting to the woes
Which all the dreadful band of ruin brings?

Second choral interlude. — The cho-
rus first tells of the former fall of Troy
under Hercules and Telamon; and
then refers to the high honors that had
come to the city through the trans-
lation of Ganymede to be the cupbearer
of Jove, and through the special grace
of Venus. But these have not availed
to save the city from its present de-
struction.

Third episode. — Menelaiis appears,
announcing that the Greeks have al-
lotted to him Helen, his former wife,
the cause of all this strife, to do with
as he will. He declares his intention
to take her to Greece, and there destroy
her as a warning to faithless wives.

Hecuba applauds this decision, and

thinks that at last heaven has sent

justice to the earth:

Dark thy ways
And silent are thy steps to mortal man;
Yet thou with justice all things dost ordain.

tomb will be invaded and his ashes
scattered upon the sea. To her
frantic prayer for mercy he says:
Bring forth the boy — and pray.

Follows a canticum, in which Andro-
mache brings Astyanax out of the
tomb and sets him in Ulysses' sight:

Here, here's the terror of a thousand ships I
and prays him to spare the child.
Ulysses refuses, and, after allowing the
mother time for a passionate and
pathetic farewell to her son, he leads
the boy away to his death.

Second choral interlude. — The cho-
rus discusses the various places to
which it may be its misfortune to be
carried into captivity. It professes
a willingness to go anywhere but to
the homes of Helen, Agamemnon, and
Ulysses.

Third episode. — Helen approaches
the Trojan women, saying that she
has been sent by the Greeks to deck
Polyxena for marriage with Pyrrhus,
this being a ruse to trick the girl into
an unresisting preparation for her
death. This news Polyxena, though
mute, receives with horror.

Andromache bitterly cries out upon
Helen and her marriages as the cause
of all their woe. But Helen puts the
whole matter to this test:

Seneca and the Greek Dramas

49 1

Helen, dragged forth from the tent at
the command of Menelaus, pleads
her cause. She lays the blame for all
upon Hecuba and Priam:

She first, then, to these ills
Gave liirth, when she gave Paris birth; and

next
The aged Priam ruined Troy and thee,
The infant not destroying, at his birth
Denounced a baleful firebrand.

Blame should also fall upon Venus,
since through her influence Helen
came into the power of Paris.

Hecuba refutes the excuses of Helen.
She scouts the idea that Venus brought
Paris to Sparta. The only Venus that
had influenced Helen was her own
passion inflamed by the beauty of
Paris:

My son was with surpassing beauty graced;
And thy fond passion, when he struck thy

sight.
Became a Venus.

As for the excuse that she was borne
away by force, no Spartan was aware
of that, no cries were heard. Hecuba
ends by urging Menelaus to carry out
his threat. This, he repeats, it is his
purpose to do.

Third choral interlude. — The chorus
sadly recalls the sacred rites in Troy
and within the forests of Mount Ida,
and grieves that these shall be no more.
They lament the untimely death of
their warrior husbands, whose bodies
have not received proper burial rites,
and whose souls are wandering in the
spirit-world, while they, the hapless
wives, must wander over sea to foreign
homes. They pray that storms may
come and overwhelm the ships, and
especially that Helen may not live to
reach the land again.

l.xode. — Enter Tallhybius, with

Count this true,
If 'twas a Spartan vessel brought me here.

Under the pointed questions of Andro-
mache she gives up deception, and
frankly states the impending doom of
Polyxena to be slaughtered on Achilles'
tomb, and so to be that hero's spirit
bride. At this the girl shows signs of
joy, and eagerly submits herself to
Helen's hands to be decked for the
sacrificial rite.

Hecuba cries out at this, and
laments her almost utter childlessness;
but Andromache envies the doomed
girl her fate.

Helen then informs the women that
the lots have been drawn and their
future lords determined; Andromache
is to be given to Pyrrhus, Cassandra
to Agamemnon, Hecuba to Ulysses.

Pyrrhus now appears to conduct
Polyxena to her death, and is bitterly
scorned and cursed by Hecuba.

Third choral interlude. — The chorus
enlarges upon the comfort of company
to those in grief. Hitherto they have
had this comfort; but now they are to
be scattered, and each must sutler
alone. And soon, as they sail away,
they must take their last, sad view of
Troy, now but a smouldering heap;
and mother to child will say, as she
points back to the shore:

See, there's our Troy, where smoke curls

high in air.
And thick, dark clouds obscure the distant

sky.

Exode. — The messenger relate- with

40 ?

T n e T r a g e i ' 1 i ■ s op Seneca

the dead body of Vstyanax borne upon
the shield of Sector. He explains
thai Pyrrhus has hastened home,
summoned by news of insurrection in

his own kingdom, and has taken Andro-
mache with him. He delivers Andro-
mache's request to Hecuba that she
gi\r the boy proper burial, and use the

hollow shield as a casket for the dead.
HeCUba and the Chorus together

weep over the shield, which recalls
Hector in his days of might, and over
the poor, bruised body of tin- dead boy,
sadly contrasting his former beauty
with this mangled form. They then
wrap it in such costly wrappings as
their slate allows, place h;m upon the
shield, and consign him to the tomb.
Talthybius then orders bands of men
witli torches to burn the remaining
buildings of Troy; and in the light of
its glaring flames and with the crashing
sound of its falling walls in their ears,
Hecuba and her companions make
their way to the waiting ships, while
the messenger urges on their lagging
steps.

in u. h detail to Hecuba, Andromache,
and the rest, the circumstances of the

death of Astyanax and Polyxena:

how crowds of Greeks and Trojans
witnessed both tragedies, how both
sides were moved to tears at the sad
sight, and how both victims nut their
death as became their noble birth.

Andromache bewails and denounces
the cruel death of her son, and sadly
asks that his body be g'ven her for
burial; but she is told that this is
mangled past recognition.

But Hecuba, having now drained
her cup of sorrow to the dregs, has no
more wild cries to utter; she almost
calmly bids the Grecians now set sail,
since nothing bars their way. She
longs for death, complaining that it
ever flees from her, though she has
often been so near its grasp.

The messenger interrupts, and bids
them hasten to the shore and board
the ships, which wait only their coming
to set sail.

THE AGAMEMNON OF AESCHYLUS, AND THE AGAMEMNON

OF SENECA

Prologue. — A watchman, stationed
upon the palace roof at Argos, laments
the tedium of his long and solitary
task; and prays for the time to come
when, through the darkness of the
night, he shall see the distant flashing
of the beacon fire, and by this sign
know that Troy has fallen and that
Agamemnon is returning home. And
suddenly he sees the gleam for which
so long he has been waiting. He springs
up with shouts of joy and hastens
to tell the queen. At the same time

Prologue. — The ghost of Thyestes
coming from the lower regions recites
the motif of the play: how he had been
most foully dealt with by Agamem-
non's father, Atreus, and how he had
been promised revenge by the oracle
of Apollo through his son Aegisthus,
begotten of an incestuous union with
his daughter. The ghost announces
that the time for his revenge is come
with the return of Agamemnon from
the Trojan war, and urges Aegisthus
to perform his fated part.

Seneca and the Greek Dramas

493

he makes dark reference to that which
has been going on within the palace,
and which must now be hushed up.

Parade, or chorus entry. — A chorus
of twelve Axgive elders sings of the
Trojan War, describing the omens
with which the Greeks started on their
mi>sion of vengeance. They dwell
especially upon the hard fate which
forced Agamemnon to sacrifice his
daughter. And in this they un
sciously voice one of the motives which
Kd to the king's own death.

First episode. — Clytemnestra ap-
pears with a Stately procession of torch-
bearers, having set the whole city in
gala attire, with sacrificial incense
burning on all the altars. The chorus
asks the meaning of this. Has she
had news from Troy? The queen
replies that this very night she has had
news, and describes at length how the
signal fires had gleamed, and thus the
news had leaped from height to height,
all the long way from Troy to Argos.

And this sure proof and token now I tell thee,
Seeing that my lord hath sent it me from
Troy.

She expresses the hope that the victors
in their joy will do nothing to offend
the gods and so prevent their safe re-
turn:

May good prevail beyond all doubtful chance !
For I have got the blessing of great j< ■>-.

Willi these words she covers up the
real desires of her own false heart,
while at the same time voicing the
principle on whii h doom was to over-
take the Greeks.

The chorus receives Clytcmnestra's
news with joy and prepares to sing
praises to the gods, as the queen with
her train leaves the Stage.

Parode, or chorus entry. — The chorus
of Argivc women complains of the
inn crtain condition of exalted fortune,
and recommends the golden mean in
preference to this.

First episode. — Clytemnestra, con-
scious of guilt, and fearing that her
returning husband will severely punish
her on account of her adulterous life
with Acgisthus, resolves to add crime
to crime and murder Agamemnon
as soon as he comes back to his home.
She is further impelled to this action
by his conduct in the matter of her
daughter, Iphigenia, and by his own
unfaithfulness to her during his long
absence. Throughout this scene the
nurse vainly tries to dissuade her.

Clytemnestra is either intluenced to
recede from her purpose by the nur->e,
or else pretends to be resolved to draw-
back in order to test Aegisthus who
now enters. In the end, the tWO « on-
spirators withdraw to plan their
intended crime.

494

The T r a r. e n i k s of Seneca

First choral interlude.— The chorus

sings ill praise of ZeUS, who lias

signally disproved the skeptic's claim

that

The kikIs deign no; to can for mortal men
Hy whom the grace of tilings inviolable

Is trampled under foot,
The shameful guilt of Paris is de-
scribed, the woe <>f the wronged Mene-
laiis, and the response of all Greece to
his I ry for vengeance. But, after all, the
chorus is in doubt as to whether the
good news can be true — when a herald
enters with fresh news.

Second episode. — The herald de-
scribes to the chorus the complete
downfall of Troy, which came as a
punishment for the sin of Paris and
of the nation which upheld him in it.
At the same time the sufferings of the
Greeks during the progress of the war
are not forgotten. Clytemnestra, en-
tering, prompted by her own guilty
conscience, bids the herald tell Aga-
memnon to hasten home, and take to
him her own protestation of absolute
faithfulness to him:

who has not broken

One seal of his in all this length of time.

The herald, in response to further
questions of the chorus, describes the
great storm which wrecked the Greek
fleet upon their homeward voyage.

Second choral interlude. — The chorus
sings of Helen as the bane of the Tro-
jans:

Dire cause of strife with bloodshed in her
train.

And now

The penalty of foul dishonor done
To friendship's board and Zeus

has been paid by Troy, which is likened
to a man who fosters a lion's cub,

First choral interlude. — The chorus
sings in praise of Apollo for the victory
over Troy. To this are added the
praises of Juno, Minerva, and Jove.
In the end the (horns hails the ap-
proach of the herald Eurybates.

Second episode. — Eurybates an-
nounces to Clytemnestra the return
and approach of Agamemnon, and
describes the terrible storm which
overtook the Greeks upon their home-
ward voyage. At the command of
the queen victims are prepared for
sacrifice to the gods, and a banquet
for the victorious Agamemnon. At
last the captive Trojan women headed
by Cassandra are seen approaching.

Second choral interlude. — A chorus
of captive Trojan women sings the
fate and fall of Troy; while Cassan-
dra, seized with fits of prophetic fury,
prophesies the doom that hangs over
Agamemnon.

Seneca and ttte Greek Dramas 495

which is harmless while still young, but
when full grown "it shows the nature
of its sires," and brings destruction to
the house that sheltered it.

Third episode. — Agamemnon is seen
approaching in his chariot, followed
by his train of soldiers and captives.
The chorus welcomes him, but with a
veiled hint that all is not well in Argos.
Agamemnon fittingly thanks the gods
for his success and for his safe return,
and promises in due time to investi-
gate affairs at home.

Clytemnestra, now entering, in a
long speech of fulsome welcome,
describes the grief which she has
endured for her lord's long absence in
the midst of perils, and protests her
own absolute faithfulness to him.
She explains the absence of Orestes
by saying that she has intrusted him to
Strophius, king of Phocis, to be cared
for in the midst of the troublous times.
She concludes with the ambiguous
prayer:

Ah Zeus, work out for me
All that I pray for; let it be thy care
To look to that thou purposest to work.

Agamemnon, after briefly referring
to Cassandra and bespeaking kindly
treatment for her, goes into the pahv e,
accompanied by Clytemnestra.

Third choral interlude. — The cho-
rus, though it sees with its own
that all is well with Agamemnon, that
he is returned in safety to his own
home, is filled with sad forebodings of
some hovering evil which it cannot
dispel.

Exode. — Clytemnestra returns and
bids Cassandra, who still remains
standing in her chariot, t<> join the

Third episode. — Agamemnon comes
upon the scene, and, meeting Cas-
sandra, is warned by her of the fate
that hangs over him; but she is not

believed.

Third choral interlude. — Apropos of
the fall of Troy, the i horus of Argive
women sings the praises of Hercules
whose arrows had been required by
fate for the destruction of Troy.

Exode. — Cassandra, either standing
where she can see within the palace,
or else by clairvoyant power, reports

496

T ii k Tragedies of Seneca

other slaves in ministering at the altar.
Hut Cassandra stands motionless,
paying no heed to the words of the
queen, who leaves tin- scene saying:

I will DOl beat tlu- shame- of uttering more.

Cassandra now descends from her
c hariot and hursts into wild and woeful
lamentations. By her peculiar clair-
voyant power she foresees and declares
to tin- chorus the death of Agamemnon
at the hands of Clytemnestra and
Aegisthus, as well as the manner of it;
she also foretells the vengeance which
Orestes is destined to work upon the
murderers. I Icr own fate is as clearly
seen and announced, as she passes
through the door into the palace.

Soon the chorus hears the death cry
of Agamemnon, that he is "struck
down with deadly stroke." They are
faint-heartedly and with a multiplicity
of counsel discussing what it is best to
do when Clytemnestra, with blood-
stained garments and followed by a
guard of soldiers, enters to them from
the palace. The corpses of Agamem-
non and Cassandra are seen through
the door within the palace. The
queen confesses, describes, and exults
in the murder of her husband. The
chorus makes elaborate lamentation
for Agamemnon, and prophesies that
vengeance will light on Clytemnestra.
But she scorns their threatening
prophecies. In the end Aegisthus
enters, avowing that he has plotted
this murder and has at last avenged
his father, Thyestes, upon the father
of Agamemnon, Atreus, who had so
foully wronged Thyestes. The chorus
curses him and reminds him that
Orestes still lives and will surely
avenge his father.

the murder of Agamemnon, which is
being done within.

Electra urges Orestes to Bee before
his mother and Aegisthus shall
murder him also. Very opportunely,
Strophius comes in his chariot, just
returning as victor from the Olympic
games. Electra intrusts her brother
to his care, and betakes her own self
to the altar for protection.

Electra, after defying and denoun-
cing her mother and Aegisthus, is
dragged away to prison and torture,
and Cassandra is led out to her death.

INDEX

[NDEX OF MYTHOLOGICAL SUBJECTS

[References are to the lines of the Latin text. If the passage is longer than one line, only
the first line is cited. Line citations to passages of especial importance t<> the subject under
discussion are starred. A few historical characters from the Oclaina arc included in the Index.
The names of the characters appearing in these tragedies are printed in large capitals, with the
name of the tragedy in which the character occurs following in parentheses. 1

Absyrtus, a son of Aeetes, and
brother of Medea. Medea, fleeing
with Jason from Colchis, slew her
brother and scattered his mangled
remains behind her, in order to
retard her father's pursuit, Med.

121, 125, *I3I. 452» 473. 9"5 his
dismembered ghost appears to the
distracted Medea, ibid. 963.

Abyla, see Calpe.

Acastus, son of Pelias, king of
Thessalv. He demands Jason and
Medea from Creon, king of Cor-
inth, for vengeance on account of
the murder of his father through the
machinations of Medea, Med. 257,
4i5. 52i, 52°-

Achelol'S, the river-god of the river
of the same name. He fought with
Hercules for the possession of Deia-
nira, changing himself into various
forms, H. Get. *20o; defeated by
Hercules, ibid. *495-

Acheron, one of the rivers of hades,
Thy. 17; described by Theseus, H.
Fur. 715.

Achilles, son of Peleus and Thetis,
and one of the celebrated Greek
heroes in the Trojan War. He
was connected by birth with heaven
(Jupiter), the sea (Thetis), and the
lower world (Aeacus), Tro. 311;
educated by Chiron, the centaur,
ibid. 832; hidden by his mother
in the court of Lvt omedes, king
of Scyros, in the disguise of a
girl's garments, in order to keep
him from the war, ibid. 213; while
there, became the father of Pvrrhus
by Deidamia, daughter of the king,
ibid. 342; his activities in the early

period of the Trojan War, ibid. 182;
wounds and cures Telephus, ibid.
♦215; overthrows Lyrnessus and
Chrysa, taking captive Brisels and
Chryse'is, ibid. 220; effect of his
anger on account of the loss of
Briseis, ibid. 194, 318; example of
the taming power of love, Oct. 814;
slays Memnon and trembles at his
own victory, Tro. *239; slays Pen-
thesilea, the Amazon, ibid. 243;
works dire havoc among Trojans
in revenge for death of Patroclus,
Agam. 619; slays Hector and drags
his dead body around walls of
Troy, Tro. 189; is slain by Paris,
ibid. 347; his ghost appears to the
Greeks on the eve of their home-
ward voyage, and demands the
sacrifice of Polyxena upon his
tomb, ibid. *i70.

Actaeon, a grandson of Cadmus,
who accidentally saw Diana bath-
ing in a pool near Mt. Cithaeron.
For this he was changed by tin-
angry goddess into a stag, and in
this form was pursued and slain by
his own dogs, Oed.* 751; Phocn. 14.

Acte, the mistress of Nero who dis-
placed Poppaca, Oct. 195.

Admetus, see Alcestis.

Adrastus, king of Argos. He re-
ceived the fugitive Polynices at his
court, gave him his daughter in
marriage, and headed the expedi-
tion of the Seven against Th<
in order to reinstate his son-in-law
upon the throne, I'hocu. 374.

Aeacus, son of Jupiter and Europa,
father of Peleus; on account of his
just government on earth he ■

499

5oo

The Tragedies of Seneca

made one o! (lie judges of spirits in
hades, //. (hi. 155S; //. lur. 734.
See under JUDGES IN HADES.
A 1 BTXS, king of (ok his, son of
Phoebus and Persa, and father of
Medea, Med. 210; grandeur, ex-
tent, and situation of kingdom
described, ibid, 2og; wealth of his
kingdom, ibid. 483; had received a
wonderful gold-wrought robe from
Phot bus as proof of fatherhood;
this Medea anoints with magic
poison, and sends to Creiisa, ibid.
570; he was despoiled of his realm
through the theft of the golden
fleece, ibid. 913.

Aegeus, see Theseus.

AEGISTHUS {Agamemnon), son of
an incestuous union between Thy-
estes and his daughter. His birth
was the result of Apollo's advice
to Thycstes, that only thus could
he secure vengeance upon the house
of Atreus, A gam. 48, 294; at open-
ing of play he recognizes that the
fatal day is come for which he was
born, ibid. 226; lived in guilty
union with Clytemnestra, wife of
Agamemnon, ibid, passim.

Aegoceros, a poetic expression for the
more usual Capricornus, the zodi-
acal constellation of the Goat, Thy.
864.

Aegyptus, see Danaides.

Aesculapius, son of Apollo and the
nymph Coronis; he was versed in
the knowledge of medicine, was
deified, and had the chief seat of his
worship at Epidaurus, Hip. 1022.

Aetna, a volcano in Sicily, Phoen.
314; its fires were used as a type of
raging heat, Hip. 102; H. Oet. 285;
considered as the seat of the forge
of Vulcan, H. Fur. 106; supposed
to be heaped upon the buried
Titan's breast, Med. 410.

AGAMEMNON (Troades, Agamem-
non), king of Mycenae, son of
Atreus, brother of Menelaus, com-
mander of the Greek forces at
Troy. He and Menelaus used
by Atreus to entrap Thyestes, Thy.

325; tamed by the power of love,
Oct. 815; took captive Chryseis,
daughter of the priest of Apollo,
Agam. 175; compelled to give her
up, he took from Achilles by force
his maiden Briseis, ibid. 186; at-
tempts to dissuade Pyrrhus from
the sacrifice of Polyxena to Achilles'
ghost, Tro. *203; inflamed by love
for Cassandra, Agam. 188, 255;
his power magnified as the great
king who has come unscathed out
of a thousand perils, ibid. 204; his
homeward voyage and wreck of
his fleet described, ibid. *42i; re-
turns to Mycenae and hails his
native land, ibid. 782; his murder
described by Cassandra who either
beholds it through the palace door,
or sees it by clairvoyant power,
ibid. *867. See Cassandra, Cly-
temnestra, Iphigenia, Pyrrhus.

Agave, a daughter of Cadmus and
Harmonia, mother of Pentheus,
king of Thebes. She, with her
sisters, in a fit of Bacchic frenzy,
slew Pentheus on Mt. Cithaeron,
rent away his head, and bore it back
to Thebes, Oed. 1006; Phoen. 15,
363; her shade appears from hades,
raging still, Oed. 616. See Pen-
theus.

Agrippina I, daughter of M. Vip-
sanius Agrippa and Julia, the
daughter of Augustus, mother of
the emperor Caligula. She died in
exile at Pandataria, Oct. *932.

AGRIPPINA II {Octavia), daughter
of the preceding, wife of Cn. Domi-
tius Ahenobarbus, and mother of
Nero. She married the emperor
Claudius, whom she murdered by
poison, Oct. 26, 45, 165, 340; she
was the stepmother of Octavia, and
the cause of all her woes, ibid. 22;
plotted the murder of Silanus, the
betrothed lover of Octavia, and
forced the latter into marriage with
Nero, ibid. 150; she sought in all
this her own power and world-
wide sway, ibid. 155, 612; mur-
dered by her own son, Nero, ibid.
46, 95, 165; her murder briefly

Mythological Index

501

described and attributed to Pop-
paea's influence, ibid. 126; de-
scribed in full detail, ibid. *3io,
*6oo; former high estate and
pitiable death contrasted, ibid. 952;
her ghost appears to curse Nero for
his impieties, ibid. *593-

Ajax, son of Oileus, called simply
Oileus; his death described, Med.
660; for his blasphemous defiance
of the gods he was destroyed by
Pallas and Neptune in the great
storm which wrecked the Greek
fleet on its homeward voyage,
Agam* 532.

Ajax, son of Telamon, crazed with
rage because the armor of the dead
Achilles was awarded to Ulysses,
Again. 210.

Alcestis, wife of Admetus, king of
Pherae, for the preservation of
whose life she resigned her own,
Med. 662.

ALCIDES, see Hercules.

ALCMENA (Hercules Oetaeus), wife
of Amphitryon, a Theban prince,
beloved of Jupiter, and mother by
him of Hercules, //. Fur. 22, 490.
See Hercules.

Alcyone, see Ceyx.

Althaea, wife of Oeneus, king of
Calydonia, and mother of Meleager.
In revenge for the latter's slaugh-
ter of her two brothers, she burned
the charmed billet of wood on
which her son's life depended,
and so brought to pass his death,
Med. 779; on this account con-
sidered as a type of unnatural
woman, H. Oct. 954.

Am althea, the goat of Olenus which
fed with its milk the infant Jove,
and was set as constellation in the
sky; not yet known as such in the
golden age, Med. 3 13. See Olenus.

ZONS, a race of warlike women
who dwelt on the river Thermodon,
Med. 215; even tiny have felt the
influence of love, Hip. 575; con-
quered by Bacchus, Oed. 479;
Clytemnestra compared to them,

Agam. 736; allies of Troy, Tro. 12;
their queen, IVnthesilea, slain by
Achilles, il> id. 243; Hercules la-
ments that if he was fated to die by
a woman's hand he had not been
slain by the Amazon, Hippolyte, H.
Oet. 1 183. See Antiope, Penthe-
silea, Hippolyte.

A'.ii'iuoN, son of Antiope by Jupiter,
king of Thebes, and husband of
Niobe; renowned for his music;
built the walls of Thebes by the
magic of his lyre, Phoen. 566; H.
Fur. 262; his hounds are heard
baying at the time of the great
plague at Thebes, Oed. 179; his
shade arises from hades holding
still in his hand the wonderful lyre,
ibid. 612.

AMPHITRYON (Hercules Fur ens),
a Theban prince, husband of
Alcmcna, the mother of Hercules,
H. Fur. 309; he proves that not he
but Jupiter is the father of Hercules,
ibid. 440; welcomes Hercules upon
his return from hades, ibid. 618.

Antaeus, an Arcadian hero, one of
the Argonauts, slain by the Caly-
donian boar, Med. 643.

ANDROMACHE (Troades), wife of
Hector and mother of Astyanax;
attempts to hide and save her son
from Ulysses, Tro. *43o; given by
lot to Pyrrhus, ibid. 976. See
Asytanax.

Ant a 1 us, a Libyan giant, son of
Neptune and Terra, a famous
wrestler, who gained new strength
by being thrown to mother earth;
strangled by Hercules, who held
him aloft in the- air, //. Fur.
1 1 7 1 ; //. Oet. 24, 1899; Alcmena
fears that a possible son of his may
come to vex the earth, //. (hi.

1788. See Hercules.
ANTIGf )N E ( Phoenissae), the •laugh-
ter of < ledipus and Jocasta; she
refuses to desert her father in his
blindness and exile, Phoen. 51;
Oedipus wonders that such a pure
girl should have sprung from so
vile a house, ibid. 80; she argues
her father's innocence, ibid. 203.

502

T II E T R A G EDI K S OK Si \ i c A

Amkut, an Amazon, wifr of Theseus
and slain l>y him, Hip. 22U, 927,
1 1 r-. - ; mother of Hippolytus by
Theseus, ibid. 398; her personal
appearance and dress described,
ibid. *3o8; her stern and lofty
beauty inherited by Hippolytus,
ibid. 059.
\\iM\ns (Marc Antony), a gnat
Roman general, deflated by Oc-
tavianus at the battle of Actium;
Bed with Cleopatra to Egypt, Oct.
518.

Apollo, son of Jupiter and Latona,
horn in Dclos, a "roving land,"
//. Fur. 453; twin brother of
Diana, Med. 87; the laurel his
sacred tree, Again. 588; god of the
prophetic tripod, Med. 86; inspirer
of priestess at his oracle, Oed. 269;
god of the bow, is himself pierced
by the arrows of Cupid, Hip. 192;
killed the dragon Python, H. Fur.
455; exiled from heaven and
doomed to serve a mortal for killing
the Cyclopes, he came to earth and
kept the flocks of Admetus, king of
Pherae, ibid. 451; Hip. 296;
hymn in praise of, Agam. 310;
worshiped as the sun, lord of the
sky, under the name of Phoebus
Apollo. See Phoebus.

Aquarius, the zodiacal constellation,
known as the Water-bearer, Thy.
865.

Arabes, the inhabitants of Arabia,
famed for their spice groves, Oed.
117; sun- worshipers, H. Oet. 793;
use poisoned darts, Med. 711.

Arctophylax, the Bear-keeper, a
northern constellation, called also
Bootes, according as the two ad-
jacent constellations are called the
Bears (Arctos, Ursae), or the
Wagons (Plaustra). By a strange
mixture of the two conceptions, this
constellation is called Arctophylax
and custos plaustri ("the wagon's
guardian") in the same connection,
Thy. 874. See Bootes.

Arcadians, the most ancient race of
men, older than the moon, H. Oet.
1883; Hip. 786.

Arcadian Bears, the constellations
of the Great and Little Bears, which
wheel round their course in the
northern sky, but do not set, H.
Fur. 1 29. Sec Arctos, Bears, and
Callisto.

Arcadian Boar, captured by Her-
cules and brought alive to Eurys-
theus as his fourth labor, Agam.
832; H. Fur. 229; H. Oet. 1536.
See Hercules.

Arcadian Stag, captured by Her-
cules, H. Fur. 222. Sec Hercules.

Arctos, a name given to the double
constellation of the Great and Little
Bears, Oed. 507; called also Arca-
dian stars, ibid. 478. Sec Bears
and Callisto.

Argo, the name of the ship in which
the Greek heroes under Jason
sailed to Colchis in quest of the
golden fleece, Med. 361; chorus
comments upon the rashness of
the man who first intrusted his life
to a ship, and recalls the adventure
of the Argonautic heroes, ibid.
♦301; this voyage was impious,
since it broke the law of the golden
age, that the lands should be sev-
ered, not connected by the seas,
ibid. 335; Tiphys was the builder
and the pilot of the Argo, ibid. 3,
318; he was instructed by Minerva,
patron goddess of the arts and
crafts, ibid. 3, 365; the Argo had
its keel made of wood from the
talking oak of Dodona, ibid. 349;
the sailing of the new ship described,
ibid. *3i8; how it escaped the
Symplegades, ibid. *34i; the roll
of the Argonautic heroes, "the bul-
wark of the Greeks, the offspring
of the gods," ibid. +227; nearly all
came to a violent death, ibid. *6o7-

Argos, the capital of Argolis, sacred
to Juno, the home of heroes, Agam.
808; paid homage to Bacchus,
after the favor of Juno had been
won by him, Oed. 486.

Ariadne, daughter of Minos, king of
Crete; she fell in love with Theseus,
and supplied him with a thread by
which to find his way out of the

Mythological Index

503

labyrinth, Hip. 662; she fled with
Theseus, but was ruined and de-
serted by him on the island of
Naxos, ioid. 665; and there found
and beloved by Bacchus, Oed. 448;
who made her his wife and immor-
talized her by setting her as a con-
stellation in the heavens, ibid. 497;
//. Fur. 18; Hip. 663; pardoned
by her father for her love of Theseus,
ih id. 245.

Aries, the golden-fleeced ram which
bore Phrixus and Helle through the
air, and which was afterward set
in the heavens as one of the zodiacal
constellations, Thy. 850.

Astraea, the goddess of Justice, who
lived among men during the golden
age, but finally left the earth be-
cause of the sins of man, Oct. 424;
she is the zodiacal constellation,
Virgo, If. Oct. 69; called, incor-
rectly and perhaps figuratively, the
mother of Somnus, //. Fur. 1068.
See Justice.

ASTYANAX (Troades), the young
son of Hector and Andromache,
pictured as leading his youthful
playmates in joyful dance around
the wooden horse, Agam. 634;
compared with his father, Tro. 464;
his death demanded by the Greeks,
as announced by Calchas, ibid. 369;
reasons for his death from the stand-
point of the Greeks, ibid. 526; the
doom of Astyanax announced to
his mother, ibid. 620; she patheti-
cally recounts all the activities
into which he would have grown,
but which must now be given up,
ibid. *77o; his death described
by messenger, ibid. *io68.

Atlantiades, see Pleiades.

Atlas, a high mountain in the north-
west of Libya, conceived as a giant
upon whose head the heavens
rested, //. Oct. 12, 1599; eased
awhile of his burden by Hercules,
ibid. 1905.

ATREUS (Thycstes), a son of Pelops,
father of Agamemnon and Mene-
laiis, and brother of Thycstes, be-
tween whom and himself existed a

deadly feud. He plans how he will
avenge himself upon his brother,
Thy. 176; describes his brother's
sins against himself, ibid. 220; his
revenge takes shape and expression,
ibid. 260; the place and scene of
his murder of the sons of Thycstes
described at length, ibid. *65o; he
gloats over the horrible agony of
his brother, ibid. 1057.

Attis, a young Phrygian shepherd,
mourned by the priests of Cybele,
Agam. 686.

Auge, an Arcadian maiden, loved by
Hercules, and mother by him of
Telephus, H. Oet. 367.

Augean Stables, the stables of
Augeas, king of Elis, containing
three thousand head of cattle, and
uncleansed for thirty years; they
were cleaned by Hercules in a
single day, II. Fur. 247.

AUGUSTUS, the first emperor of Rome;
his rule cited by Seneca to Nero as
a model of strong but merciful
sway, Oct. +477; his bloody path
to power described by Nero, ibid.
♦505; deified at death, ibid. 528.

Aulis, a seaport of Boeotia, the ren-
dezvous of the Greek fleet, whence
they sailed to Troy. Here they
were stayed by adverse winds until
they were appeased by the sacrifice
of Iphigenia, Agam. 567; Tro. 104;
the hostility of Aulis to all ships
because her king, Tiphys, had met
death on the Argonautic expedition,
assigned as a reason for her deten-
tion of the Greek Beet, Med. 622.
See Iphigenia.

B.

Bacchus, son of Jupiter and Semele,

the daughter of Cadmus. The un-
born infant was -red from his
dying mother who had been blasted
by the lightnings of her lover, Oed.
502; Med. 84; //■ Fur. 457; to

ape the wrath of Juno, he
hid in Arabian (or Indian
where, disguised as a girl, he

nourished by the nymphs, Oed.
♦418; in childhood captured by

5°4

T II K T K A C K D I K S O F S E N E C A

Tvti.in pirates, who, frightened by
marvelous manifestations of divine

power on board their ship, Leaped
overboard and were changed into

dolphins, ibid. *440". visited India,

accompanied by Theban heroes,
ibid. *xiy, II- Fur. 903; visited

Lydia and sailed on the Pactolus,
Oed. 4c >7 ; conquered the Amazons
and many other savage peoples,
ibid. 469; god of the flowing locks,
crowned with ivy, carrying the
thyrsus, ibid. 403; H. Fur. 472;
Hip. *753; marvelous powers of
the thyrsus described, Oed. +491;
attended by his foster-father Sile-
nus, ibid. 429; called Bassareus,
Oed. 432; Bromius, Hip. 760;
Ogygian Iacchus, Oed. 437; Nycte-
lius, ibid. 492; destroyed Lycurgus,
king of Thrace, because of that
king's opposition to him, H. Fur.
903; inspired his maddened wor-
shipers, the women of Thebes, to
rend Pentheus in pieces, Oed. 441,
483; helped Jupiter in war against
the giants, H. Fur. 458; found
Ariadne on island of Naxos, where
she had been deserted by Theseus,
made her his wife, and set her as a
constellation in the heavens, Oed.
488, 497; Hip. 760; H. Fur. 18;
dithyrambic chorus in his praise,
giving numerous incidents in his
career, Oed. **403; won the favor of
Juno and the homage of her city
of Argos, ibid. 486; gained a place
in heaven, H. Oet. 94. See
Ariadne, Bassarides, Bromius,
Nyctelius, Ogyges, Pentheus,
Proetides, Semele, Silenus.

Bassarides, female worshipers of
Bacchus, so called because they
were clad in fox skins, Oed. 432.
Hence Bacchus was called Bassa-
reus.

Bears, the northern constellations of
the Great and Little Bears; they
were forbidden by the jealous Juno
to bathe in the ocean (an explana-
tion of the fact that these constella-
tions never set), H. Oet. 281, 1585;
Thy. 477; Med. 405; have plunged

into the sea under the influence of

magic, ibid. 758; shall some day, by
a reversal of nature's laws, plunge

beneath the sea, Thy. 867; the
Great Bear used for steering ships
by the Greeks, the Little Bear by
the Phoenicians, Med. 694. Sec
Arcadian Bears, Arctos, Cal-
listo.

Belias, one of the Bclides, or grand-
daughters of Belus, the same as the
Danaklcs, since Danalis was the
son of Belus, H. Oet. 960.

B ellon a, the bloody goddess of war,
conceived of as dwelling in hell,
H. Oet. 13 1 2; haunts the palace of
kings, Again. 82.

Boeotia, land named from the heifer
which guided Cadmus to the place
where he should found his city,
Oed. 722.

Bootes, the northern constellation of
the Wagoner, driving his wagons,
under which form also the two
Bears are conceived, Oct. 233;
Agam. 70; unable to set beneath
the sea, ibid. 69; not yet known as
a constellation in the golden age,
Med. 315.

Briareus, one of the giants pictured
as storming heaven, H. Oet. 167.

Briseis, a captive maiden, beloved
by her captor, Achilles, from whom
she was taken by Agamemnon,
Tro. 194, 220, 318.

Britannicus, son of the emperor
Claudius and Messalina, brother of
Octavia, and stepbrother of Nero,
by whom, at the instigation of
Agrippina, the mother of Nero, he
was murdered, in order that Nero
might have undisputed succession
to the throne, Oct. 47, 67, *i66,
242, 269.

Bromius (the "noisy one"), an
epithet of Bacchus, on account of
the noisy celebration of his festivals,
Hip. 760.

Brutus, the friend of Julius Caesar,
and yet the leader of the conspi-
rators against him, Oct. 498.

Mythological Index

505

Busiris, a king of Egypt who sacri-
ficed strangers upon his altars, and
was himself slain by Hercules, Tro.
1 106, //. Fur. 483; H. Oet. 26;
Alcmena fears that a possible son
of his may come to vex the earth
now that Hercules is -lead, ibid.
1787.

C

(*.\i>\iiTnEs, daughters of Cadmus,
e. g., Agave, Autonoe, Ino, who in
their madness tore Pentheus in
pieces, H. Fur. 758.

Cadmus, son of Agcnor, the king of
Phoenicia. Being sent by his
father to find his lost sister, Europa,
with the command not to return
unless successful, he wandered over
the earth in vain, and at last
founded a land of his own (Boeotia),
guided thither by a heifer sent by
Apollo. Here he kills the great
serpent sacred to Mars, sows its
teeth in the earth from which
armed men spring up, Oed. **7i2;

If. Fur. qi;; Pliant. 125; lie was
at last himself changed to a serpent,
//. Fur. 392; his house was
cursed, so that no king of Thebes
from Cadmus on held the throne in
peace and happiness, Phoen. 64 \.

CAESAR, Julius, quoted as a mighty
general, unconquered in war, but
slain by the hands of citizens, Oct.
500.

CALC'IIAS (Troades), a distinguished
seer among the Greeks before
Troy; his prophetic power de-
scribed, Tro. *353", he decides that
Polyxena must be sacrificed, ibid.
360'.

Callisto, a nymph of Arcadia, be-
loved of Jove, changed into a bear
by Juno, and set in the heavens
by her lover as the constellation of
the Great Bear, while her son
Areas was made the Little Hear,
H. Fur. 6; is the constellation by
which the (ircek sailors guided
their ships, ibid. 7; called the frozen
Bear, Aid. 1139. Sec Jupiter,
Arctos, Bears.

Calpe, one side of a rocky passage
rent by Hercules, thus letting the
Mediterranean Sea into the outer
ocean. Calpe was one of the so-
called "pillars of Hercules," or
Gibraltar, while th< te mass

in Africa from which it was rent
was called Abyla, H. Fur. 237;
H. Oet. 1240, 1253, 1569.

Cancer, the zodiacal constellation of

the Crab, in which the sun is found
in the summer solstice, Thy. 854;
Hip. 287; H. Oet. 41, 67, 1219,

1573-

Caphereus, a cliff on the coast of
Euboea, where Nauplius lured the
Greek fleet to destruction by dis-
playing false tire-, A gam. 560. See
Nauplius.

CapnOMANTIA, a method of divining
by observation of the smoke of the
sacrifice, described, Oed. *$2$.

CASSANDRA (Agamemnon), be-
loved by Apollo, but false to him;
for this, the gift of prophecy be-
stowed by him was made of no
avail by his decree that she should
never be believed, Tro. 34; A gam.
255, 588; given by lot to Agamem-
non in the distribution of the cap-
tives, Tro. 978; raves in prophi
frenzy and describes the murder of
Agamemnon in progress, Agiim.
*72o; is led away to death, rejoic-
ing in the prospect, and predicting
the death of Clytemnestra and
Aegisthus, ibid. 1004.

Castor, one of the twin sons of
Jupiter and l.eda, wife of Tyn-
darus, king of Sparta; his brother
was Pollux, Phoen. 128; Castor
was the rider of the famous horse,
Hams, given to him by Juno,
Hip. 810; the twins were members
of the Argonautic expedition, Med.
230; called Tyndaridae, from the
name of their reputed father, //.
Fur. 14; Castor a famous horseman,
Pollux, a famous boxer, Med. 89;
the two were >et as < onstellations
in the sky to the Kr'rl of Juno,
Oct. 208.

5oo

Thk Tragedies ok Seneca

Caucasus, b rough mountain range

between the Buck and Caspian

Seas, Thy. 1048; lure Prometheus

v,.i^ chained, //.(><•/. 1378; Med.

See Prometheus.

Cecrops, the mythical founder and
first king of Athens; hence the
Athenians were called Cecropians,

Med. 70; Thy. 1049.

( '1 n \i cm, a promontory <>n the north-
west point <>f the island of Euboea;
here Hercules sacrificed to Jove,
who was called Cenacan Jove from
the position of his temple, after his
victory over Kurytus, H. Oet. 102;
while sacrificing here, Hercules
donned the poisoned robe sent by
Deianira, ibid. 782.

Centaurs, a race of wild people in
Thessaly, half man, half horse, H.
Oet. 1049, 1 195, 1925; fight of,
with the Lapithae, H. Fur. 778;
the centaur, Nessus, killed by Her-
cules, H. Oet. *503. See Chiron,
Nessus.

Cirberus, the monstrous three-
headed dog, guardian of hades, Thy.
16; H. Oet. 23; H. Fur. 1107; his
existence denied, Tro. 404; said to
have broken out of hades, and to be
wandering abroad in the Theban
land, Oed. 171; his clanking chains
heard on earth, ibid. 581; Her-
cules, in the accomplishment of his
twelfth labor, brought the dog in
chains to the upper world, IT. Oet.
1245; Agam. 859; H. Fur. +50,
547; Theseus describes the dog in
great detail, and how he was
brought to the upper world by Her-
cules, ibid. *76o; his actions in the
light of day, ibid. *8i3- See Her-
cules.

Ceres, the daughter of Saturn, sister
of Jupiter, mother of Proserpina,
and goddess of agriculture; her
vain and anxious search for her
daughter, H. Fur. 659; taught
Triptolemus the science of agricul-
ture, Hip. 838; the mystic rites of
her worship, H. Fur. 845. Her
name used frequently by meton-

vmy for grain. See Eleusin,
Pi oserpina, Triptolemus.

Ciyx, king of Trachin who suffered
death by shipwreck. His wife,

Alcyone, mourned him incessantly,
until finally both he and she were
changed into kingfishers, H. Oet.
197; Agam. 68i ; I ></. 7.

Chaonian ( >aks, a sacred grove in
Chaonia of Epirus containing a
temple and oracle of Jupiter, said
to be the oldest oracle in Greece;
the oracle was supposed to be given
out by the oaks themselves, which
were endowed with the miraculous
power of speech, or by the doves
which resorted there. These great
"Chaonian trees" are used as a
type of tall trees in general, ( 'ed.
728; the "talking oak" of Chaonia,
H. Oet. 1623. See Dodona.

Charon, the aged man who ferries
souls across the river Styx, H. Fur.
555; his personal appearance de-
scribed by Theseus, ibid. *764;
forced by Hercules to bear him
across the Lethe (not Styx), ibid.
♦770; overwearied by his toil of
transporting such throngs of Theban
dead, Oed. 166; charmed by the
music of Orpheus, H. Oet. 1072;
Cassandra prophesies that his skiff
shall on that day carry two royal
souls across the river of death,
Agam. 752.

Charybdis, a whirlpool between
Italy and Sicily, opposite to Scylla,
alternately sucking in and vomiting
up the sea, Med. 408; H. Oet. 235;
Thy. 581. See Scylla.

Chimaera, a monster combining a
lion, a dragon, and a goat, which
vomited forth fire, Med. 828.

Chiron, a centaur dwelling in a
cavern on Mt. Pelion, famous for
his knowledge of plants, medicine,
and divination. To his training
was intrusted the young Jason, Her-
cules, Aesculapius, and Achilles,
H. Fur. 971; Tro. 832; set in the
sky as the zodiacal constellation of
Sagittarius, the "Archer," Thy. 860.

Mythological Index

507

Cheyseis, the daughter of Chryses,
a priest of Apollo at Chrysa. She
was taken captive by the Greeks and
fell tn the h>t of Agamemnon, who,
being forced by a pestilence sent
by Apollo to give her up, claimed
Brisels, the captive maid of Achilles.
Hence anise a deadly strife between
the two, Tro. 223. See Achilles.

Cirrha, a very ancient town in
Phocis, near Delphi, where were the
famous temple and oracle of Apollo,
Oed. 269; H. Oet. 92, 1475.

ClTHAEEON, a mountain near Thebes
where the infant Oedipus had been
exposed, Phoen. 13; the scene of
many wild and tragic deeds. See

Actaeox, Agave, Dirce, Pen-

THEUS.

Claudius, the fourth Roman emperor,
father of Octavia, murdered by his
second wife, Agrippina, Oct. 26, 45,
269.

CLOTHO, one of the three fates or
l'.ircae, supposed to hold the dis-
taff and spin the thread of life, //.
Oet. 768; Oct. 16; Thy. 617.

CLYTEMNESTBA {Agamemnon),

the daughter of Tyndarus and
Leda, wife of Agamemnon, mother
of Orestes, Iphigenia, and Electra.
During the absence of her husband
at the Trojan War, she engaged in
a guilty conspiracy with Aegisthus
to murder Agamemnon. She delib-
erates whether she shall give up her
course of crime or carry it out to
the end, Again. 108; tests the cour-
age and determination of Aegisthus
ihid. 239; her murder of Agamem-
non prophesied and described by
Cassmdra, ibid. * 7 3 4 . See Aga-
memnon and Aegisthus.

tus, "the river of lamentation,"
a gloomy, repulsive river of hades,
//. Oet. 1963; "sluggish, vile," H.
1-iir. 686; conceived as the river
over which spirits cross to the land
of the dead, ibid. 870.

Colchian Bull, the fire-breathing
monster which Jason was set to
tame and yoke to the plow; Medea

claims to have preserved some of
his fiery breath for her magic uses,
Med. 829.
Colchian Woman, See Medea.

CREON {Medea), king of Corinth, to
whose court Jason and Medea fled
after they were driven out of
Thessaly; father of Creusa, for
whom he selected Jason as a hus-
band, decreeing the banishment of
Medea; headstrong and arbitrary,
he breaks the most sacred ties to
work his own will, Med. 143; after
a stormy interview with Medea, he
finally allows her a single day of
respite from exile, ihid. *i9o;
(ailed the son of Sisyphus, ibid. 512;
his death and that of his daughter
by means of magic lire announced
and described, ibid. *&"]<).

CREON {Oedipus), a Theban prince,
brother of Queen Jocasta, Oed. 210;
sent by Oedipus to consult the
oracle as to the cause of the plague
at Thebes, he reports that it is
because of the unavenged murder
of their former king, La'ius, ibid.
*2io; he returns from necromantic
rites which Tiresias had performed,
and announces that Oedipus him-
self is guilty of the murder of
La'ius. He is thereupon thrown
into prison by Oedipus on the
charge of conspiracy with Tiresias,
ibid. *$og; slain by the usurper,
Lycus, as described by his daughter,
Megara, who had been given as
wife to Hercules, H. Fur. 254.

1 ian Bull, a wild bull of prodi-
gious size, which laid waste the
island of Crete; caught and taken
alive to Eurystheus by Her« ules as
his seventh labor, //. l-ur. 230;
Agam. 833; See Hercules.

CRE1 SAl Medea), daughter of Creon,

king of Corinth, for whom
Creon chose Jason as husband,
Med. 105; Jason's wife, Medea,
bitterly protests that Creusa shall
not bear brothers to her children,
ibid. 509; Jason is charged by his
wife with love for Creusa, ibid. 495;
Medea prepares a magic robe as .1

5o8

The Tragedies of Seneca

present tor Creusa by which she
shall be burned to death, ibid. *8i6;
Creusa's death announced and de-
scribed, ibid. 879.

CsiSPlMUS, B Roman knight, the hus-
band of Poppaea, Oct. 731.

Cl'Pin, the god nf love, son of Venus;
addressed and characterized by

Deianira, //. ( ><7. + 5J1; all power-
ful over the hearts of gods and men,
Hip. *i8s; hymn recounting his
wide sway, with special instances of
his irresistible power, ibid. **275;
his dire power, Oct. 806; there is
no such god; he is created by the
error of men, who seek to hide
their own lustful passions behind
such a being, ibid. **557 ; Hip.

**27 t\.

Cybele, a goddess worshiped in the
Phrygian groves, Hip. 1135; the
pines of Ida were sacred to her,
Tro. 72; crowned with a turreted
crown, her worship described,
Agam. 686.

Cyclopes, a fabulous race of giants
on the coast of Sicily, having each
but one eye in the middle of the
forehead; they are said to have
built the walls of Mycenae, H.
Fur. 997; Thy. 407; Polyphemus,
one of the Cyclopes, is pictured as
sitting on a crag of Mt. Aetna,
ibid. 582.

Cycntjs, a son of Mars, slain by Her-
cules, H. Fur. 485.

Cycntjs, a son of Neptune, slain by
Achilles and changed at the mo-
ment of death into a swan, Agam.
215; Tro. 184.

Cyllarus, a famous horse which
Juno received from Neptune and
presented to Castor, Hip. 811.

Cynosura, the constellation of the
Lesser Bear, Thy. 872.

D

Daedalus, an Athenian architect,
the father of Icarus, in the time of
Theseus and Minos. He helped
Pasiphae, wife of Minos, to accom-
plish her unnatural desires, Hip.

120; built the labyrinth for the
Minotaur, ibid. 122, 1171; story
of his escape from Crete on wings
which he himself had constructed,
Oed. +822; safe because he pursued
a middle course, //. Oet. 683.
Danak, daughter of A< risius, and
mother of Perseus by Jupiter who
approached her in the form of a
golden shower, Oct. 207, 772. See
Perseus.

Danaides, the fifty daughters of
Danaiis, brother of Aegyptus.
These fifty daughters, being forced
to marry the fifty sons of Aegyptus,
slew their husbands on their wed-
ding night, with the single excep-
tion of Hypermnestra, //. Fur.
498; their punishment in hades for
this crime was the task of filling a
bottomless cistern with water car-
ried in sieves, ibid. 757; Medea
summons these to her aid in getting
vengeance upon her own husband,
Med. 749; Deianira would fill up
the vacant place in their number left
by the absence of Hypermnestra,
H. Oet. 948; called also Belides,
ibid. 960. See Belias, Hyperm-
nestra.

Dardanus, the son of Jupiter and
Electra, one of the ancestors of the
royal house of Troy. He is repre-
sented as exulting in hades over
the impending doom of Agamem-
non, the enemy of his house, Agam.

773-
Daulian Bird, i. e., Philomela, who
was changed into a nightingale
after the sad tragedy connected
with her name, which was enacted
at Daulis, a city of Phocis. She
mourns continually, in her bird
form, for Itys, H. Oet. 192. See
Philomela and Itys.

DEIANIRA (Hercules Oetaeus), the
daughter of Oeneus, king of Caly-
donia, sister of Meleager, wife of
Hercules, and mother of Hyllus,
pictured as playing with her
maidens on the banks of the
Acheloiis, H. Oet. 586; relates to
her nurse the affair of her abduction

Mythological Index

509

by Nessus, ibid. *5oo; her wild rage
when she hears of Hercules' infat-
uation for Iole, ibid. 237; ignorant
of its real power, she prepares to
send the charmed robe to Hercules,
ibid. *535; she gives it to Lichas to
bear to his master, ibid. 569; makes
test of the remnant of the poisoned
blood of Nessus after the anointed
robe has been sent away and
is horrified to discover its ter-
rible power, ibid. *7 16; later learns
from Hyllus the terrible effects of
the poison on Hercules, ibid. *742;
she prays for death, ibid. 842; begs
Hyllus to slay her, ibid. 984; goes
distracted and seems to see the
furies approaching, ibid. 1002; her
death by her own hand reported
by Hyllus, ibid. 1420.

Deidamia, daughter of Lycomedes,
king of Scyros, and mother of
Pyrrhus by Achilles while the latter
was hiding in the disguise of
maidens' garments at that court,
Tro. 342.

Deiphobus, a son of Priam and
Hecuba and husband of Helen
after the death of Paris; slain and
mangled by the Greeks through
the treachery of his wife, Again.
749-

Delos, a small island in the Aegean
Sea, formerly floating about from
place to place, in which con-
dition it became the birthplace of
Apollo and Diana, H. Fur. 453;
made firm at the command of Diana,
Again. 384.

Delphic Oracle, the famous oracle
of Apollo at Delphi in Phocis;
expressed in enigmatic form, Oed.
214; the giving-out of an oracle
described, ibid. *225.

Deucalion, son of Prometheus, hus-
band of Pyrrha; this pair were alone
saved of all mankind from the
flood, Tro. 1039. See Pyri -ii a.

Diana, daughter of Jupiter and
Latona, twin sister of Apollo, //.
Fur. 905; hymn in praise of, A gam.
♦367; caused her native Delos to

be a firm island, ibid. 369; punished
Niobe for her impiety, ibid. 375;
conceived as in triple manifesta-
tion, Luna or Phoebe in heaven,
Diana on earth, and Hecate in
hades, Hip. 412; hence called
Trivia and worshiped where three
ways meet, Agam. 367; Hippoly-
tus prays to her as goddess of the
chase, Hip. 54; her wide sway
described, ibid. *54; nurse of
Phaedra prays that she may turn
Hippolytus to love, ibid. 406; in
form of Luna, an object of attack
by Thessalian witchcraft, ibid. 421;
luing slighted by Oeneus, king of
Aetolia or Calydon, she sent a
huge boar to ravage the country.
Hence Plcuron, a city of Aetolia, is
said to be hostile to her, Tro. 827.

DlCTYNNA, "goddess of the nets,"
an epithet applied to Diana, Med.
795; assumed from Britomartys,
a Cretan nymph, sometimes called
the Cretan Diana, who, to escape
from the pursuit of her lover,
leaped over a cliff into the sea,
where she fell into a fishing-net.

Diomedes, a bloody king of the
Bistones, in Thrace, who fed his
captives to fierce, man-eating
horses which he kept in his stalls,
//. Get. 1538; Tro. 1108; Her-
cules, as his eighth labor, captured
these horses, having previously
fed their master to them, Again.
842; H. Fur. 226, 1170; Akmena
fears that she may be given to
these horses now that Hercules is
dead, H. Oet. 1790. See Her-

CULKS.

Dikci:, tlie wife of Lycus, king of
Thebes, who, on account of her
cruelty to Antiope, was tied by her
sons, Zethus and Amphion, by the
hair to a wild bull, and so dragged
to death on Mt. Cithaeron, Phoen.
19; changed to a fountain of the
same name, ibid. 120; //. Fur. 916;
the water of this fountain was said
to flow with blood at the tin.
the great plague at Thebes. Oed.
177-

5">

The Tragedies of Skneca

Discord, one of the furies, summoned

by Juno from hades to drive Her-
cules to madness, //. Fur. gy, her

abode described, ibid. *o3.

Di dona, a city of Chaonia in Epirus,

famous for its ancient oracle of
Jupiter, situated in a grove of oaks.

The oracle was given in some
mysterious way as if by the talking
of these sacred oaks, H. Oet. 1473;
Minerva aided in the construction
of the Argo, and set in the prow a
piece of timber cut from the speak-
ing oak of Dodona, and this piece
had itself the power of giving
oracles; hence the "voice" which
it is said that the Argo lost through
fear of the clashing Symplegades,
Med. 349. See Chaonian Oaks.

Domitius, the father of Nero, Oct. 249.

Dragon, (i) the guardian of the
apples of the Hesperides, slain by
Hercules, and afterward set in the
heavens as the constellation, Draco,
lying between the two Bears, Thy.
870; Med. 694; (2) the dragon of
Colchis, guardian of the Golden
Fleece, put to sleep by the magic
of Medea, Med. 703; (3) dragon
sacred to Mars killed by Cadmus
near the site of his destined city
of Thebes. The teeth of this dragon
were sown in the earth by Cadmus,
and from these armed men sprung
up, Oed. **725; H. Fur. 260; a
part of these same teeth were
sown by Jason in Colchis with a
similar result, Med. 469; the broth-
ers who sprang up against Cad-
mus are described as living in hades,
Oed. 586.

Drusus, Livius, the fate of, Oct.
887, 942.

Dryads, a race of wood-nymphs, H.
Oet. 1053; Hip. 784.

Echo, a nymph who pined away
to a mere voice for unrequited love
of Narcissus. She dwells in moun-
tain caves, and repeats the last
words of all that is said in her
hearing, Tro. 109.

ELECTRA (Agamemnon), daughter

of Agamemnon and Clytemnestra,
and sister of Orestes; gives her
brother to Strophius, king of
Phocis, that he may be rescued
from death at the hands of Cly-
temnestra and Aegisthus, Agam.
910; defies her mother, and scorns
both her threats and those of
Aegisthus, ibid. 953; is taken away
to imprisonment, ibid. 1000; Oc-
tavia compares her woes with
Electra's, to the advantage of the
latter, Oct. 60.

Eleusin, an ancient city of Attica,
famous for its mysteries of Ceres,
H. Oet. 599; Tro. 843; H. Fur.
300; Hip. 838; the celebration of
the mysteries described, H. Fur.
♦842. See Ceres, Triptolemus.

Elysium, the abode of the blest in
the spirit world, Tro. 159, 944;
H. Oet. 1916; H. Fur. 744;
Deianira thinks that she should be
expelled from Elysium by all
faithful wives, H. Oet. 956.

Enceladus, one of the giant Titans
who attempted to dethrone Jove,
overthrown and buried under Sicily,
H. Fur. 79; H. Oet. 1140, 1145,
"59. 1735-

Eridanus, the mythical and poetical
name of the river Po, H. Oet. 186.
See Phaethontiades.

Erinyes, the furies, H. Fur. 982;
Med. 952; Oed. 590; Agam. 83;
Thy. 251; H. Oet. 609, 671; Oct.
23, 161, 263, 619, 913. See Furies.

Eryx, the son of Butes and Venus, a
famous boxer, overcome by Her-
cules, H. Fur. 481; a mountain in
Sicily, said to have been named
from the preceding, Oed. 600.

ETEOCLES (Phoenissae), one of the
two sons of Oedipus and Jocasta.
After Oedipus went into voluntary
banishment, abandoning the throne
of Thebes {Phoen. 104), Eteocles
and Polynices agreed to reign alter-
nately, each a year. Eteocles, the
elder, first ascended the throne, but

Mythological Index

5ii

when his year was up refused to
give way to his brother, Phoen.
55, 280, 389. See PoLYNICES.
Eumenides ("the gracious ones"),
a euphemistic name for the furies,
H. Fur. 87; H. Oet. 1002.

Kcroiw, daughter of Agenor, king of
Tyre, beloved of Jupiter, who, in
the form of a bull, carried her away
to Crete, Oct. 206, 766; H. Oet.
550; this episode is immortalized
by the constellation of Taurus,
which rises in April, H. Fur. 9;
sought in vain by her brother Cad-
mus, Oed. 715; the continent of
Europe named after her, Agam.
205, 274; Tro. 896.

EURYBATES {Agamemnon), a mes-
senger of Agamemnon who an-
nounces the victory of the Greeks
over Troy, and the near approach
of the hero to Mycenae, A gam. 392;
he relates at great length the suf-
ferings of the Greek fleet by storm
and shipwreck on the homeward
voyage, ibid. *42i.

Eurydice, the wife of Orpheus, slain
by a serpent's sting on her wedding
day; story of Orpheus' quest for
her in hades, H. Fur. *$tg; res-
cued by Orpheus from the lower
world, but lost again, II. Oel.
♦1084. See Orpheus.

Eurystheus, the son of Sthenelus
and grandson of Perseus, w-ho, by
a trick of Juno, was given power
over Hercules, and, at Juno's
instance, set to Hercules his various
labors, H. Oet. 403; H. Fur. 78,
479, 526, 830; lord of Argos and
Mycenae, ibid. 1180; H. Oet. 1800;
his time of punishment will come,
ibid. 1973.

Eurytus, king of Oechalia and father
of Iole, H. Oet. 1490; he and his
house destroyed by Hercules be-
cause he refused the lattcr's suit
for Iole, ibid. 100, 207, 221; H.
Fur. 477. See Hercules.

Fescennine, of Fescennia, an an-
cient town of Etruria, famous for

a species of coarse, jeering dialogues
in verse which bear its name, Med.
"3-
Fortune, the goddess of fate, ruling
over the affairs of men, //. Fur.
326, 524; Tro. *i, *25o, 269, 697,
735; Phoen. 82, 308, 452; Med.
159, 176, 287; Hip. 979, 1 1 24,
1143; Oed. 11, 86, 674, 786, 825,
934; Agam. 28, 58, 72, 89, 101,
248, 594, 698; H. Oet. 697; Oct.
36> 377. 479. 563> 888, 898, 931,
962; Thy. 618.

Furies, avenging goddesses, dwelling
in hades, set to punish and torment
men both on earth and in the lower
world; described and appealed to
for aid in punishment of Jason,
Med. 13; Juno plots to summon
them from hades in order to drive
Hercules to madness, H. Fur. 86;
described as to their horrible physi-
cal aspect, ibid. 87; described in
clairvoyant vision by Cassandra,
Agam. *759; moving in bands, Thy.
78, 250; Med. 958; one of the
furies used as a character in dramatic
prologue, driving the ghost of
Thyestes on to perform his mission,
Thy. +23. See Eumenides, Erin-
yes, Megaera, Tisiphone.

Gemini, the zodiacal constellation of
the Twins, Castor and Pollux,
Thy. 853.

Geryon, a mythical king in Spain
having three bodies; Hercules slew
him and brought his famous cattle
to Eurystheu> as his tenth labor,

//. Fur. 21 1, 4S7, 1 170; Agam.&$r,
II. Oel. 26, 1204, 1900. See

Hl.RCULES.

GHOSTS! The ghost appears as a
dramatis persona in the following
plays: Agamemnon, in which the
ghost of Thyestes appears in the pro-
logue to urge Aegisthus on to fulfil
his mission; Thyestes, in which the
ghost of Tantalus similarly ap]
in the prologue; Octovia, in which
the ghost of Agrippina appears.
In the following plays the ghost

5"

The Tragedies of Seneca

affects the action though not actu-
ally appearing upon the stage:
Troades, in which the ghost of
Achilles is reported to have appeared
to the Greeks and demanded the
sacrifice <>f Polyxena, 168 ff.;
Andromache also claims to have
seen the ghost of I [ector warning her
of the impending fate of Aslyanax,
443 iT.; Oedipus, in which the ghost
of Laius and other departed spirits
are described as set free by the necro-
mancy of Tiresias, 58a IT. ; Medea, in
which the mangled ghost of Absyrtus
seems to appear to the distracted
Medea, 963; ghosts appear larger
than mortal forms, Oed. 175.

GIANTS, monstrous sons of Earth,
fabled to have made war upon the
gods, scaling heaven by piling moun-
tains (Pelion, Ossa, and Olympus)
one on another, Tro. 829; Thy. 804,
8io, 1084; H. Fur. 445; they were
overthrown by the thunderbolt of
Jupiter, H. Oet. 1302; Oed. 91; with
the help of Hercules, H. Oet. 1215;
buried under Sicily, ibid. 1309;
seem to the mad Hercules to be again
in arms, and to be hurling moun-
tains, H. Fur. 976; after death of
Hercules there is danger that they
will again pile up mountains and
scale heaven, H. Oet. 1139, *n5i-
See Briareus, Enceladus, Gyas,
Mimas, Othrys, Typhoeus, Ti-
tans.

Golden Age, the first age of man-
kind, when peace and innocence
reigned on the earth; described,
Hip. +525; Oct. *395; Med. +329.

Golden-Fleeced Ram, (i) the ram
on which Phrixus and his sister,
Helle, escaped from Boeotia; as they
fled through the air Helle fell off
into the sea, Tro. 1035; on arrival
at Colchis Phrixus sacrificed the
ram and gave his wonderful fleece
to King Aectes, who hung it in a tree
sacred to Mars. This fleece was
the prize sought by the Argonauts
under Jason, Med. 361, 471. See
Phrixus, Helle, Argonauts. (2)
The emblem and pledge of sove-

reignty in the house of Pelops,
Thy. *22S-

Gorgon, Medusa, one of the three
daughters of Phorcys, whose head
was covered with snaky locks, and
sight of whom had power to turn
to stone. She was killed by Per-
seus, and her head presented to
Minerva who fixed it upon her
shield, H. Oet. 96; Agam. 530.
See Perseus.

Gracchi, two popular leaders of the
Sempronian gens, quoted as
examples of men brought to ruin
by popular renown, Oct. 882.

Gradivus, a surname of Mars, H.

Fur. 1342.
Gyas, one of the giants who sought to

dethrone Jove, H. Oet. 167, 1139.

H

Hades, the place of departed spirits,
situated in the under world; the
upper world entrance to, and down-
ward-leading passage, H. Fur. 662;
description of, ibid. 547; Theseus,
returned with Hercules from hades,
describes in great detail the places
and persons of the lower world, ibid.
**658; chorus sings of the world of
the dead and of the thronging
peoples who constantly pour into its
all-holding depths, ibid. *83o; its
torments and personages described
by ghost of Tantalus, Thy. 1; its
regions and inhabitants seen by
Creon through the yawning chasm
in the earth made by Tiresias' in-
cantations, Oed. *s82.

Harpies, mythical monsters, half
woman and half bird; driven from
Phineus by Zetes and Calais, Med.
782; still torment Phineus in hades
as upon earth, H. Fur. 759; used
as type of winged speed, Phoen. 424.

Hebe, the daughter of Juno, cup-
bearer to the gods, and given as
bride to the deified Hercules, Oct.
2X1.

Hecate, daughter of Perses, presider
over enchantments; often identified
with Proserpina as the underworld

M'.Y T1IOLOCICAL INDEX

513

manifestation of the deity seen in
Diana on earth and Luna in heaven,
H. Oet. 15 19; Med. 6, 577, 833, 841;
Tro. 389; Hip. 412; Oed. 569.

Hector, the son of Priam and Hecuba,
husband of Andromache, the bravest
warrior and chief support of Troy,
Tro. 1 25; burns the Greek fleet, ibid.
444; A gam. 743; slays Patroclus,
Tro. 446; slain by Achilles and his
body dragged around the walls of
Troy, ibid. *Aiy, Again. 743; his
body ransomed by Priam, ibid. 447;
lamented by the band of captive
Trojan women, Tro. 98; his ghost
warns Andromache in a dream of
the danger of their son Astyanax,
ibid. 443; she hides the boy in
Hector's tomb, ibid. 498; she loves
Astyanax for the boy's resemblance
to his father, ibid. 646.

HECUBA (Troades), the wife of Priam,
unhappily survives Troy; as one of
tin- captive Trojan women, leads
them in a lament for Troy's down-
fall, for Hector and Priam, Tro. *i;
before the birth of Paris, dreamed
that she had given birth to a fire-
brand, ibid. 36; her once happy
estate described, and contrasted
with her present wretchedness, ibid.
♦958; given to Ulysses by lot, ibid.
980; having suffered the loss of all
her loved ones she is at last changed
into a dog, A gam. *705; rejoices for
the first time after Hector's death
on occasion of wooden horse being
taken into Troy, ibid. 648.

HELEN* (Troades), daughter of Jupiter
and Leda, sister of Clytemnestra,
wife of Menelaiis, reputed the most
beautiful woman in Greece; given
by Venus to Paris as a reward for
his judgment in her favor, Oct. 773;
tied from her husband for love
of Paris, Again. 123; afterward
pardoned by Agamemnon and re-
turned home with Mcnclaiis, ibid.
273; sent by Greeks to deceive
Polyxena and prepare her for sacri-
fice on tomb of Achilles, Tro. 861;
cursed by Andromache as the com-
mon scourge of Greeks and Trojans,

ibid. *892; bewails and describes
her own hard lot, ibid. 905; she is
not to blame for the woes of Troy,
ibid. 917.

Helle, sister of Phrixus, who fled
with him on the golden fleeced ram,
and fell off into the sea which then-
after bore her name (Hellespont),
Tro. 1034; Thy. 851. See Phrixus.

Hercean Jove, an epithet of Jupiter
as the protector of the house; it was
at his altar in the courtyard of his
own palace that Priam was slain,
Tro. 140; Agam. 448, 793.

HERCU1 .ES (Hercules Furens, Her-
cules Oetaeus), the son of Jupiter
and Alcmena, H. Fur. 20; H. Oet.
7 and passim; night unnaturally
prolonged at his conception, Agam.
814; H. Fur. 24, 1 158; H. Oet.
147, 1500,1697,1864; in his infancy
he strangled the two serpents which
Juno sent against him in his cradle,
H. Fur. *2i4; H. Oet. 1205; by a
trick of Juno who hastened the
birth of Eurystheus, made subject to
Eurystheus who set him various
labors, H. Oet. 403; H. Fur. 78, 5 24,
♦830. These twelve labors are as
follows: (1) The killing of the
Nemean lion, H. Fur. 46, 224;
H. Oet. 16, 411, 1 192, 1235, 1885;
Agam. 829; (2) the destruction of
the hydra of Lerna, Agam. 835;
Med. 701; H. Fur. 46, 241, 529,
780, 1 195; H. Oet. 19, 918, 1 193,
1534, 18 13; (3) the capture alive of
the Arcadian stag, famous for its
fleetness and its golden antlers,
H. Fur. 222; H. Oet. 17, 1238;
Again. 831; (4) the capture of the
wild boar of Erymanthus, H. Fur.
228; //. Oet. 1536, 1888; Agam. 832;
(5) the 1 Lansing of the Augean
ibles, //. Fur. 247; (6) the killing
of the Stymphalian birds, //. Fur.
244; FI. Oct. 17, 1237, 1813, 1-
Agam. 850; (7) the capture of the
Cretan bull, //. lur, 230; //. Oet.
27; Agam. 834; (8) the obtaining
of the mares of l liomedes which fed
on human flesh and the slaying of
Diomedes himself, //. Fur. 226;

5J i

Tim Tragedies of Seneca

//. Oct. bo, 1538, 1S1.1, 1894;

. >.•- 8 1 2; (9) the securing of the

girdle of Hippolyte, //. lur. 245,

//. ( V/ ai, 1 183, 1450; Again.

848; 1 to) the killing of Geryon and
the capture of his oxen, //. Fur. 231,
487; II. Oet. 20, 1204, 1900; Again.

. 1 1 1) the securing <>f the golden
apples <>f the rlesperides, H. Fur.
239. 53°; H. Oet. 18; Phoen. 316;

.■•;;. *852; (12) the descent to
hades and bringing to the upper
world of the dog Cerberus, 11. lur.
*4"» **7"o; H. Oet. 23, 1162, 1244;
A gam. 859. Other heroic deeds
done by Hercules are as follows:
he bore up the heavens upon his
shoulders in place of Atlas, H. Fur.
*(yg, 528, 1101; H. Oet. 282, 1241,
1764, 1905; burst a passage for the
river Peneus between Ossa and
( Mvmpus, II. Fur. +283; rent Calpe
and Abyla (the "Pillars of Hercu-
les") apart and made a passage for
the Mediterranean Sea into the
ocean, H. Fur. 237; H. Oet. 1240,
1253, 1569; fought with and over-
came the Centaurs, ibid. 1195;
fought with Acheloiis for the pos-
session of Deianira, ibid. 299, 495;
slew the centaur Nessus who was
carrying off his bride, ibid. *5oo,
921; overcame Eryx, the famous
boxer, H. Fur. 481; slew Antaeus,
H. Fur. 482, 1 171; H. Oet. 24,
1899; killed Busiris, H. Fur. 483;
H. Oet. 26; Tro. n 06; slew Cyc-
nus, son of Mars, H. Fur. 485; killed
Zetes and Calais, Med. 634; killed
Periclymenus, ibid. 635; wounded
Pluto, who was going to the aid of
the Pylians, H. Fur. 560; wrecked
off the African coast, he made his
way on foot to the shore, ibid. 319;
assisted the gods in their fight against
the giants, ibid. 444; capured Troy
with aid of Telamon during the reign
of Laomedon, Tro. 136, 719; his
arrows said to be twice fated for the
destruction of Troy, ibid. 825;
Agam. 863; forced Charon to bear
him across the Lethe (not Styx),
H. Fur. +762; H. Oet. 1556;
rescued Theseus from hades, Hip.

S43; //. Fur. S06; //. Oet. 1197,
i;')S; overcame Kurvtus, king of
Oechalia, //. Fur. 477; // < ><7. 422.
More or less extended recapitula-
tions of the deeds of Hercules arc

found in the following passages:
Agam. 808-866; H. Fur. 205-308,
481-487, 524-560; II. Oet. 1-98,
410-435, 1161-1206, 1218-1257,
1518-1606, 1810-1830, 1872-1939.
The loves of Hercules are as follows:
llesionc, daughter of Laomedon,
rescued from the sea-monster, and
made captive to Hercules with the
first fall of Troy; he afterward
gave her to Telamon, H. Oet. 363;
Auge, daughter of Aleus, king of
Tegea, ibid. 367; the Thespiades,
the fifty daughters of Thespius,
ibid. 369; Omphale, queen of Lydia,
to whom Hercules, in expiation of an
act of sacrilege, went into voluntary
servitude for three years, ibid *37i,
573; H. Fur. +465; Hip. 317;
lole, daughter of Eurytus, king of
Oechalia, whom Hercules destroyed
because lole was denied to him,
H. Oet. 100, 207, 221; H. Fur.
477. His wives were (1) Megara,
daughter of Creon, king of Thebes;
Hercules, in a fit of madness, brought
upon him by Juno's machinations,
slew her and his children by her,
H. Fur. *gSj, *ioio; H. Oet. 429,
903; when his sanity returned,
Theseus promised him cleansing
for his crime by Mars at Athens,
H. Fur. 134 1 ; elsewhere said to
have been cleansed by washing in
the Cinyps, a river in Africa, H. Oet.
907; (2) Deianira, daughter of
Oeneus, king of Calydonia. See
Deianira and Achelous. The
favorite tree of Hercules was the
poplar, H. Fur. 894, 912; H. Oet.
1 64 1. Hercules himself was des-
tined to come to a tragic end after
a life of great deeds, Med. 637; his
death was in accordance with an
oracle which declared that he should
die by the hand of one whom he had
slain, H. Oet. 1473; Deianira,
ignorantly seeking to regain her
husband's love from lole, sends him

Mythological Index

5i5

a robe anointed with the poisoned
blood of Nessus, ibid. 535; Lichas
bears the robe to his master, ibid.
569; Hercules was worshiping
Cenaean Jove in Euboea when the
robe was brought to him, ibid. 775;
his sufferings caused by the terrible
burning poison described, ibid,
*749, 1 218; hurls Lichas, the inno-
cent cause of his pains, over a clilT,
ibid. 809; after dire suffering, is
borne by boat from Euboea to Mi.
Oeta where he was to perish, ibid.
839; he orders a funeral pyre to
be built for him on the top of the
mountain, ibid. 1483; speculation
upon his probable place in heaven
after death, ibid. 1565; his glorious
and triumphant death in the midst
of the flames described, ibid. **i6io,
1726; his fated bow is presented by
the dying hero to his friend Philoc-
tctes, ibid. 1648; his ashes are
collected into an urn by his mother,
Alcmena, ibid. 1758; Medea was
iid to have in her magical store
some of the ashes of Oeta's pyre
soaked with the dying (poisoned)
blood of Hercules, Med. 777; the
voice of the hero is heard from
heaven, declaring that he has
been deified, H. Oet. *i94o; now
received into heaven as a god,
in spite of Juno's opposition,
he is given Hebe as his wife,
Oct. 210.

Hr.RMioxK, daughter of Menelaiis and
Helen; the Trojans pray that she
may suffer the same doom as Polyx-
ena, Tro. 1134.

Hesione, daughter of Eaomedon, ex-
posed to a sea-monster sent by
Neptune to punish the perfidy of
Laomedon. She was res< ued by
Hercules and captured by him when
he with Tclamon's aid took Troy,
H. Oet. 363.

Hesperides, Apples of, golden a| .pies
on certain islands far in the west,
watched over by three nymphs,
and guarded by a sleepless dragon;
it was the eleventh labor of Hercules
to get these apples and take them to

Eurystheus, Again. 852; Phcen.
316; If. Fur. 239, 530.

1 1 i sperus, the evening star, messenger
of night, Med. 87S; Hip. 750;
H. Fur. 883; impatiently awaited
by lovers, Med. 7 2: as example of
perverted nature, Hesperus will
bring in the day, Phoen. 87; func-
tions of evening and morning stars
interchanged at the conception of
Hercules, H. Fur. 821; H. Oet. 1 10.

HlEROSCOPiA (extispiciinn), a method
of prophesying by inspecting the
viscera of a newly slain sacrificial
victim practiced by Tiresias in his
effort to discover the murderer of
Laius, Oed. *353-

HrppODAMlA, daughter of Oenomaiis,
king of Pisa. See Myrtilus.

Hippolyte, a queen of the Amazons,
possessed of the belt of Mars; Eurys-
theus imposed upon Hercules as his
ninth labor that he should secure and
bring this belt, or girdle, to him;
this the hero accomplished, A gam.
848; H. Fur. 245, 542; H. Oet. 21,
"83, 1450.

HIPPOLYTUS (Hippolytus), son of
Theseus and Hippolyte, or, accord-
ing to others, of Theseus and Ant in| „■;
represented as devoted to the hunt,
and to Diana, the goddess of the
hunt, Hip. 1; the object of the
guiltv love of Phaedra, his father's
wife, ibid. *c;9; he hates and avoids
all womankind, ibid. 230; his severe
life as a recluse described, ibid. 435;
sings the praises of the simple life in
the woods and fields, and contrasts
this with city life, ibid. ^483; is
charged with a criminal attack upon
I'll icdra, ibid. 725; his death
caused by a monster sent by Nep-
tune in response to the prayer of
Theseus, ibtd. 1000; his innocence
discovered, ibid. 1 191.

Il\ ides, daughters of Atlas and sister>
of the Pleiades; a constellation

seemingly borne on the horns of
Taurus, Th 1 storm-bringing

constellation, but not yet recognized
as such in the golden age, Med. 311;

5i6

T BE Tragedies of Seneca

disturbed by the magic power of

Medea, ibid. 769.
HYDRA, > mOOSter which infested the
marsh of Lerna; it had eight beads,

and one besides which was im-
mortal When any one of the
eight heads was severed there sprang
forth two in its stead. After a
desperate struggle with this creature,
Hercules killed it as his second
labor assigned by Eurysthcus, Again.
835; Med. 701; H. Fur. 46, 241,
529, 780, 1 195; H. Oet. 19, 94, 851,
914, 918, 1193, 1534, 1650, 1813,
1927.

IIylas, a beautiful youth, beloved by
Hercules, who accompanied that
hero on the Argonautic expedition;
while stopping on the coast of Mysia
for water, the boy was seized and
kept by the water-nymphs of a stream
into which he had dipped his urn,
Hip. 780: Med. +647.

HYLLl'S {Hercules Oetaeus), son of
Hercules and Deianira; describes to
his mother the terrible sufferings of
Hercules after putting on the poi-
soned robe, H. Oet. 742; called the
grandson of Jove, ibid. 142 1; Iole is
consigned to him as his wife by the
dying Hercules, ibid. 1490.

HYMEN, the god of marriage, Tro.
861, 895; Med. *66, no, 116, 300.

Hypermnestra, one of the fifty
daughters of Danaiis, who refused
to murder her husband at her
father's command, H. Fur. 500;
for this act of mercy, she is not suf-
fering among her sisters in hades,
H. Oet. 948. See Danaides.

I

Icarus, the son of Daedalus, who,
attempting to escape from Crete on
wings which his father had made,
melted the wax of his wings by a
flight too near the sun, and so fell
into the sea which took its name
from him, Agam. 506; Oed. *892;
H. Oet. 686. See Daedalus.

Idmon, son of Apollo and Asteria, one
of the Argonauts, with prophetic

power; be died from the stroke of a

wild hoar, not, as Senei a says, from

a serpent's bite, Med. 652.

INO, daughter of Cadmus, sister of
Semele, wife of Athamas, king of

Thebes. Her busband, driven mad
by Juno, because I no had nursed tin-
infant Bacchus, attempted to slay
her, but she escaped him by leaping

off a high cliff into the sea with her
son Melicerta. They were both
changed into sea-divinities, Phoen.
22; Oed. 445. See Palaemon.

IOLE (Hercules Oetaeus), daughter of
Eurytus, king of Occhalia. She
was sought in marriage by Hercules,
who destroyed her father and all his
house because she was refused to
him, H. Oet. 221; in captivity to
Hercules, she mourns her fate, ibid.
173; sent as a captive to Deianira,
ibid. 224; her reception by Deianira
described, ibid. 237; is consigned to
Hyllus as wife, by the dying Hercu-
les, ibid. 1490.

Iphigenia, daughter of Agamemnon
and Clytemnestra; taken from her
mother to be sacrificed at Aulis, on
the pretext that she was to be
married to Achilles, Agam. 158; sac-
rificed to appease Diana to the end
that the Greek fleet might be allowed
to sail from Aulis, ibid. 160; Tro.
249, 360; her sacrifice described,
Agam. *i64; rescued by Diana at
the last moment and taken to serve
in the goddess' temple at Tauris,
Oct. 972.

Iris, the messenger of Juno, and god-
dess of the rainbow, Oed. 315.

Itys, son of Tereus, king of Thrace,
and Procne, who, to punish her hus-
band for his outrage upon her sister,
Philomela, slew the boy Itys and
served him as a banquet to his father.
The sisters, changed to birds, ever
bewail Itys, H. Oet. 192; Agam.
670.

Ixiox, for his insult to Juno fixed to
an ever-revolving wheel in hades,
Hip. 1236; Thy. 8; Agam. 15;
Oct. 623; H. Fur. 750; H. Oet. 945,

Mythological Index

5i7

ion; his wheel stood still at the
music of Orpheus, ibid. 1068; Medea
prays that he may leave his wheel
and come to Corinth, and that Creon
may take his place upon the wheel,
Med. 744. See Nephele.

J

J ASON (Medea), son of Aeson, king of
Thessaly, and nephew of the usurp-
ing king, Pelias. He was pursuaded
by Pelias to undertake the adven-
ture of the Golden Fleece, for which
he organized and led the Argonautic
expedition. He was able to perform
the hard tasks in Colchis which King
Aectes set, through the aid of Medea:
the taming of the fire-breathing bull,
Med. 121, 241, 466; overcoming of
the giants sprung from the sown
serpents' teeth, ibid. 467; putting
to sleep of the ever-watchful dragon,
ibid. 471; he had had no part in the
murder of Pelias for which he and
Medea were driven out of Thessaly,
ibid. 262; but this and all Medea's
crimes had been done for his sake,
ibid. *275; living in exile in Corinth,
he is forced by Creon into a marriage
with the king's daughter, Creiisa,
ibid. 137; Medea imprecates a
dreadful curse upon him, ibid. 19;
he laments the hard dilemma in
which he finds himself placed, ibid.
431; and at last decides to yield to
Creon's demands for the sake of his
children, ibid. 441.

JOCASTA (Oedipus, Phoenissae), wife
of Lalus, king of Thebes, mother
and afterward wife of Oedipus; on
learning that Oedipus is her son,
she kills herself in an agony of grief
and shame, Oed. 1024. According
to another version of the story, she
is still living after the events leading
to the voluntary exile of Oedipus;
she bewails the fratricidal strife
between her two sons, Eteocles and
I' 'lyniccs, and knows not with
which she ought to side, Phoen. 377;
rushing between the two hosts, she
pleads with her sons to be reconciled
with each other, ibid. *443-

JUDGES in Hades, Aeacus, Minos, and
Rhadamanthus, weep for the tir^t
time on hearing < >rpheus' plaintive

strains, Jf. bur. 579; Theseus
describes at length their persons and
their judgments, the moral law under
which the souls of nun are judged,
and the punishments and rewards
meted out after judgment, ibid.
**7 27 .

Julia, daughter of Drusus and Livia
Drusilla, exiled and afterward
slain, Oct. 944.

JUNO (Hercules Furens), speaks the
prologue, revealing her motive in
bringing about the catastrophe of the
play; she recounts in order Jove's
infidelities with mortals whose
constellations she points out, and
relates especially her fruitless
struggles with Hercules; she cannot
overcome him by any toil which she
can invent, H. Fur. *i; she looks
forward with hatred and dread to the
time when Hercules will force his
entrance into heaven, ibid. 64; she
is cited to Octavia by her nurse as a
type of wife who, by wise manage-
ment, finally won a wayward hus-
band's love to herself again, Oct.
*20i; hymn in praise of, A gam. 340;
Argos is dear to her, ibid. 809.

Jupiter, lord of Olympus, ruler of the
skies and seasons, Hip. *96o; ruler
of heaven and earth, to whom
victors consecrate their spoils, .<4 gam.
*8o2; his mother, Rhea, brought him
forth in Crete and hid him in a cave
of Mount Ida, lest his father, Saturn,
should discover and destroy him,
H. Fur. 459; hymn in praise of»
Again. 3S1; his thunderbolts are
forged in Aetna, Hip. 150; his
amours with mortals are as follows:
with Leda to whom he appeared in
the form of a swan, Hip. 301;
II. Fur. 14; with Europa, in form
of a bull, Hip. 303; H. Fur. 9;
H. Oet. 550; with Danae. in form of
a golden shower, //. Fur. 13; with
Callisto, ibid. 6; the Pleiades (Elec-
tra, Maia, Taygete), ibid. 10;
Latona, ibid. 15; Semele, ibid. 16;

5i8

The Tragedies of Seneca

Akmena, ihid. 22. For his am ient

oracle in Epirus, Bee Dodona; see

also Hi rci \n Jove and Cknaeum.
J rs in a (Justitio), the goddess As-
traea, whooni e lived on earth during
the innocence of man in the golden
age of Saturn, Oct. «o8j she lied
the earth when sin became domi-
nant, ibid. 424. Sec Astraka.

L

Labdacih ak, a name for the Thebans,

derived from Labdacus, king of
Thebes, father of Lai'us, Oed. 710;
Phoen. 53; H. Fur. 495.

LacHESIS, one of the three fates, or
Parcae, who measured out the thread
of human life, Oed. 985. The other
two were Clotho and Atropos. See
Clotho.

Laertes, the father of Ulysses, dwel-
ling in Ithaca, Tro. 700; "feels the
shock of reeling Ithaca" in a storm,
Thy. 587.

LAlUS, king of Thebes, husband of
Jocasta, father of Oedipus, whom,
fearing an oracle, he had exposed in
infancy; at the time of the opening
of the play of Oedipus, he had been
murdered by an unknown man, and
his murder must be avenged before
the plague afflicting Thebes can be
relieved, Oed. *2iy, place and
supposed manner of his death de-
scribed to Oedipus by Creon, ibid.
♦276; time and circumstances of his
murder described by Jocasta, ibid.
yj6; his shade is raised by Tiresias
and declares that Oedipus is his
murderer, ibid. +619; his shade
seems to appear to the blind Oedipus
in exile and call him to death, Phoen.
39-

Laomedon, king of Troy, father of
Priam; he deceived Apollo and
Neptune, who built the walls of
Troy, and again cheated Hercules
out of his promised reward for
delivering Hesione; hence his house
is called a " lying house," Agam. 864.

Lapithae, a tribe of Thessaly, asso-
ciated in story with the Centaurs,
and both with a great struggle

against Hercules in which they were
worsted by that hero; in hades they
still fear their great enemy when he
appears, //. Fur. 779.

Latona, beloved of Jupiter, to whom
she bore Apollo and Diana; hence
these gods are I ailed the children of

Latona, Agam. 324; the Boating
island, Delos, was the only spot
allowed her by the jealous Juno for
the birth of her children, II. Fur. 15.

Leda, the wife of Tyndarus, king of
Sparta; she was beloved by Jupiter
in the form of a swan, Oct. 205, 764;
and became by him the mother of
Castor and Pollux, who were falsely
called Tyndaridae, and set in the
heavens as constellations, H. Fur.
14; Oct. 208; Clytemnestra was
the daughter of Leda and Tyndarus,
Agam. 125, 234.

Lemnos, an island in the Aegean Sea,
the seat of fierce fires, as connected
with the fall of Vulcan on that island
where he established his forges,
H. Oet. 1362; according to story all
the Lemnian women at one time,
except Hypsipylc, murdered all their
male relatives, Agam. 566.

Leo, the zodiacal constellation of the
Lion, representing the Nemean lion
slain by Hercules, and set as a con-
stellation in the sky, H. Fur. 69,
945; Thy. 855; said to have fallen
from the moon, where, according
to the opinion of the Pythagoreans,
all monsters had their origin, H.
Fur. 83.

Lethe, a river of the lower world
whose waters possessed the power of
causing those who drank of them to
forget the past, H. Oet. 936; H.
Fur. 680; Hip. 1202; elsewhere it
loses its distinctive meaning and is
used as equivalent to Styx or the
lower world in general, ibid. 147;
Oed. 560; H. Oet. 1162, 1208, 1550,
1985; Charon even plies his boat
over this river, H. Fur. 777.

Libra, the zodiacal constellation of
the Scales, marking the autumnal
equinox, Hip. 839; Thy. 858.

Mythological Index

5i9

Lichas, the ill-fated bearer of the
poisoned robe from Dcianira to
Hercules, thrown over a cliff by the
agonized hero, H. Oet. 567, 570,
809, 814, 978, 1460; he had pre-
viously been sent home by Hercules
to announce the hero's triumph over
Eurytus, ibid. 99.

Livia, the wife of Drusus; her fate,
Oct. 942.

Lucifer, the morning star, or "light-
bringer," the herald of the sun, Hip.
752; Oed. 507, 741; H. Oet. 149.

Lucixa, the goddess who presides
over child-birth, i. e., DianaorLuna,
Agam. 385; Med. 2; or Juno, ibid.
61.

Lucretia, daughter of Lucretius, wife
of Collatinus, avenged by a bloody
war for the outrage committed upon
her by Srxtus Tarquinius, Oct. 300.

Luna, the goddess of the moon, iden-
tified with Diana upon the earth,
called also Phoebe as sister of
Phoebus, Oed. 44; she reflects her
brother's fires, ibid. 253; and passes
his car in shorter course, Thy. 838;
in love with Kndvmion, she seeks
the earth, Hip. 309, 422, 785; and
gives her chariot to her brother to
drive, ibid. 310; saved by the clash-
ing of vessels from the influence of
magic, ibid. 790.

Lycurgus, a king of Thrace, who,
for his opposition to Bacchus, was
destroyed by that god, H. Fur. 903;
Oed. 471.

LYCUS {Hercules. Furens), a usurper,
who took advantage of the absence
of Hercules in hades, and slew Creon
and his sons, and is, at the opening
of the play, ruler in Thebes, H. Fur.
270; he boasts that, though low
born, he has by conquest gained
great power and wealth, ibid. 332;
he desires to repair his fault of
birth by a union with Megara, wife
of the absent Hercules, and daughter
of Creon, ibid. 345; proposes mar-
riage to Megara, ibid. 360; is scorned
by her, ibid. 372; is slain by
Hercules, ibid. 895.

Lvnceus, one of the Argonautic
heroes, renowned for his wonderful
keenness of vision, Med. 232.

M

Maeander, a river of Phrygia, cele-
brated for its exceedingly winding
course, Phoen. 606; used to illus-
trate the windings of the river Lethe,
H. Fur. 684.

Maenads, female attendants and
worshippers of Bacchus, Oed. 430;
their bewildered madness while
under the inspiration of Bacchus,
H. Oet. 243; their unconsciousness
of pain, Tro. 674; they go wildly
ranging over the mountain tops,
Med. 383.

Magic Arts, the powers of, as prac-
ticed by Medea, Med. 670-842;
by Tiresias, Oed. 548-625; by the
nurse of Deianira, H. Oet. 452-64.

MANTO (Oedipus), the prophetic
daughter of the seer Tiresias, Again.
22; she leads her blind old father
into the presence of Oedipus, Oed.
290; describes the appearance of the
sacrifices which he interprets, ibid

3°3-
Mars, the son of Jupiter and Juno,
god of war, Tro. 185, 783, 1058;
Phoen. 527, 626, 630; Med. 62;
Hip. 465, 808; Oct. 293; Agam.
548; called also Mayors, Hip. 550;
Thy. 557; Oed. 90; used of war or
battle itself, ibid. 275, 646; Agam.
921; the amour of Mars and Venus
was discovered by Phoebus, and by
him with the aid of Vulcan they two
were caught in a cunningly wrought
net; for this reason Venus hates
the race of Phoebus, Hip. 1 25; Mars,
summoned to judgment by Neptune
for the murder of his son, was tried
and acquitted by the twelve gods
sitting in judgment at Athens in the
Areopagus (Mars Hill), //. Fur.
1342; Mars is here railed Gradivus.

MEDEA (Medea), daughter of
Aeeles, king of Colchis, and grand-
daughter of Sol and I' Med,
28, 210; the grandeur of her estate
in her father's kingdom, ibid. *209,

5=o

The Tragedies of Seneca

$3; mistress <>f magic arts, ibid.
♦750; by means of these arts she
helped Jason perform the deadly

tasks sit him by Her father, ibid.
[60, 4.67, 471; helped Jason carry
off the golden fleece upon the pos-
session of which her father's king-
dom depended, ibid. 130; left her
father's realm through crime fur
love of Jason, ibid, ng; slew her
brother, Absyrtus, and strewed his
dismembered body upon the sea
to retard her father's pursuit, ibid
tai; II . Oet. 950; tricked the
daughters of Pelias into murdering
their father, Med. 133, 201, *258;
driven out of Thessaly and pursued
by Acastus, she with Jason sought and
received a place of safety in Corinth,
ibid. 247, 257; did all her crimes not
for her own but for Jason's sake,
ibid. 275; exiled now by Creon, she
obtains one day of respite, ibid. 295;
prepares a deadly, enchanted robe
for her rival, Creiisa, ibid. 570; her
magic incantations described, ibid.
♦675; sends the robe to Creiisa, ibid.
816; and rejoices in its terrible effect,
ibid. 893; kills her two sons, ibid.
970,1019; gloats over her husband's
misery and vanishes in the air in a
chariot drawn by dragons, ibid. 1025;
goes to Athens and marries Aegeus;
is a type of an evil woman, Hip. 563;
the stepmother of Theseus, ibid.
697.

Medusa, one of the three Gorgons,
slain by Perseus. He cut off her
head which had the power of petri-
fying whatever looked upon it, and
gave it to Minerva who set it upon
her aegis, Agam. 530; her gall used
by Medea in magic, Med. 831.

Megaera, one of the furies, sum-
moned by Juno to drive Hercules to
madness, H. Fur. 102; appears to
the maddened Medea with scourge
of serpents, Med. 960; seems to
appear to the distracted Deianira,
H. Oet. 1006, 1014; summoned by
Atreus to assist him in his revenge
upon his brother, Thy. 252. See
Furies.

MKC.ARA (Hercules Furcns), the

daughter of Creon, king of Thebes,

and wife of Hercules, //. 1'nr. 202;
laments the constant toils which
hold her husband from his home,
and keep her anxious for his life,
ibid. *205; scorns the advances of
Lycus who has usurped the throne
of Thebes, ibid. *372; slain by her
husband in his lit of madness brought
upon him by the jealous Juno, ibid.
1010; H. Oet. 429, 903, 1452.

Meleager, son of Oencus, king of
Calydon, and Althaea; his tragic
death brought upon him by his
mother's wrath because he had
killed her brothers, Med. 644, 779.
See Althaea.

Melicerta, see Ino.
Memnon, the son of Aurora, slain by
Achilles, Tro. 239; Agam. 212.

Menelaus, son of Atreus, brother of
Agamemnon, husband of Helen,
king of Sparta, employed by his
father to trick his uncle, Thyestes,
Thy. 327; Helen looks forward with
fear to his judgment, Tro. 923; he
pardoned Helen for her desertion of
him for Paris, Agam. 273.

Merope, the wife of Polybus, king of
Corinth; she adopted the infant
Oedipus and brought him up to
manhood as her own child, Oed.
272, 661, 802.

MessalIna, the wife of Claudius, and
mother of Octavia, Oct. to; cursed
by Venus with insatiate lust, ibid.
258; openly married Silius in the
absence of Claudius, ibid. *26o;
slain for this by the order of her
husband, ibid. 265; her former
proud estate, as the wife of Claudius,
contrasted with her wretched fate;
her death described, ibid. *974-

Mimas, one of the giants, H. Fur.
981. See Giants.

Minos, a son of Jupiter, king of Crete;
father of Phaedra, Hip. 149; father
of Ariadne, ibid. 245; widely
ruling and powerful monarch, ibid.
149; no daughter of Minos loved
without sin, ibid. 127; because of

Mythological Index

521

his righteousness on earth, made
one of the judges in hades, A gam.
24; Thy. 23; H. Fur. 733. See
Judges in Hades.

Min'OTATJR, a hybrid monster, born
of the union of Pasiphae, the wife
of Minos, and a bull; called brother
of Phaedra, Hip. 174; confined in
the labyrinth in Crete, ibid. 649,
1171.

Mopsus, a Thessalian soothsayer, one
of the Argonauts, who died by the
bite of a serpent in Libya, Med.
655-

Mulciber, one of the names of Vul-
can. He gave to Medea the hidden
fires of sulphur for her magic, Med.
824.

Mycale, a celebrated witch of Thes-
saly, H. Oet. 525.

Mycenae, a city of Argolis, near
Argos; its walls were built by the
hands of the Cyclopes, Thy. 407;
//. Fur. 997; ruled by the house of
Pelops, Thy. 188, 561, ion; Tro.
855; the favorite city of Juno, Again.
351; the home of Agamemnon,
ibid. 121, 251, 757, 871, 967, 998;
Tro. 156, 245.

Myrrha, a daughter of Cinyras, who
conceived an unnatural passion for
her father. Pursued by him, she
was changed into the myrrh tree,
whose exuding gum resembles tears,
H. Oet. 196.

Myrtilus, a son of Mercury, char-
ioteer of Oenomaiis. Bribed by
Pelops, suitor for the hand of Hippo-
damia, daughter of Oenomaiis, he
secretly withdrew the linch-pins of
his master's chariot, thus wricking
his master's car in the race which
was to decide the success of Pelop's
suit. His sin and fate described,
Thy. 140; the wrecked chariot pre-
served as a trophy in the palace of
the Pelopidac, ibid. 660.

N

Na&)ES, fleities, generally conceived as
young and beautiful maidens, in-

habiting brooks and springs. Hip.
780. See Hylas.

Nauplius, a son of Neptune and king
of Euboea; to avenge the death of
his son, Palamedes, he lured the
Greek fleet to destruction by dis-
playing false beacon fires off the
rocky coast of Euboea, Again. +567;
when, however, Ulysses, whom he
hated most, escaped, he threw him-
self headlong from the cliff, Med.
659. See Palamedes.

Necromantia, necromancy, a raising
of the dead for purposes of consulta-
tion; practiced by Tiresias, in his
effort to discover the murderer of
Laius, Oed. **53C

Nemean Lion, the beast slain by
Hercules near Nemea, a city of Argo-
lis, as the first of his twelve labors,
Agam. 830; H. Fur. 224: H. Oet.
1193, 1235, 1665, 1885; set in the
heavens as a zodiacal constellation,
Oed. 40. See Leo.

Nephele, the cloud form of Juno,
devised by Jupiter, upon which
I.vion begot the centaur, Ncssus, in
the belieft hat it was Juno herself,
H. Oet. 492.

Neptune, son of Saturn, brother of
Jupiter and Pluto, with whom, after
the dethronement of Saturn, he cast
lots for the three great divisions of his
father's realm: the second lot,
giving him the sovereignty over the
sea, fell to Neptune, Med. 4, 507;
H. Fur. 515, 599; Oed. a66; Hip.
904, 1 159; rides over the surface of
the deep in his car, Oed. 254; sends
a monster out of the sea to destroy
Hippolytus in answer to the prayer
of Theseus, Hip. 1015; assists
Minerva in the destruction of Ajax,
the son of Olleus, in the great storm
which assailed the Creek fleet upon
its homeward voyage, Agam. 55 j;
bidden by Hercules t<> bide beneath
his waves lest he behold Cerberus,
H. Fur. 600; is the father of The-
seus, to whom he gave three wishes,
ibid. 942; other sons were Cvcnus,
Agam. 215; Tro. 183; and I'ericly-
menus, Med. 635.

59a

The Tragedies of Seneca

Neri rs, a sea deity, used often, by
metonymy, for the sea itself , Otd.
450, 508; II. Oet. 4; Hip. 88;
he is the father by Doris of Thetis
and the other Nereids, Tro. 882;
Oed. 446; even they feel the fires of
love, Hip. 336.

NERO {Octaoia), the son of Cn.
Domithis Ahenobarbus and Agrip-
pina, Oct. 249; married his step-
^-istrr, ( Ictavia, whom he treated with

great eruelty; his character depicted
by her, ibid. 86; emperor from A. d.
54 until his death in 68; murdered
his mother, ibid. 46, 95, 243; lauds
the beauty of Poppaea and an-
nounces her as his next wife, ibid.
544; his death prophesied and de-
scribed by the ghost of Agrippina,
ibid. **6i8; decrees the banishment
and death of Octavia, ibid. 861.

Nessus, a centaur, son of Ixion and
Nephele, H. Oet. 492; insults
Deianira, is slain by Hercules, and
while dying gives a portion of his
blood, reeking with the poison of the
arrow of Hercules, to Deianira as
a charm which shall recall to her
her husband's wandering affections,
ibid. *5oo; some of this blood is in
Medea's collection of charms, Med.
775; the terrible power of this
poisoned blood tested by Deianira
after she has innocently sent the
fatal robe to her husband, H. Oet.
716; Nessus declared to have been
the one who conceived the plot
against Hercules, while Deianira
was but the innocent instrument,
ibid. 1468.

Niobe, daughter of Tantalus, wife of
Amphion, king of Thebes; punished
by the loss of her seven sons and
seven daughters by Diana for her
defiance of Latona, the mother of
the goddess, A gam. 392; changed to
stone, she still sits on the top of Mt.
Sipylus and mourns for her lost
children, Agam. 394; H. Fur. 390;
H. Oet. 185, 1849; ber shade comes
up from hades, still proudly counting
her children's shades, Oed. 613.

Nyctelius, an epithet of Bacchus,

because his mysteries were cele-
brated at night, Oed. 492.

O

OCTAVIA (Octavia), the daughter of
the Emperor Claudius and Mcssa-
lina, the latter having been murdered
by order of Claudius himself, Oct.
10; and the former by his second
wife, Agrippina, ibid. 26, 45; she
became first the stepsister and then
the wife of Nero, ibid. 47; with
whom she led a most wretched life,
ibid. *ioo; she had previously been
betrothed to Silanus, ibid. 145; but
he was murdered to make way for
Nero, ibid. 154; she was beloved by
her people, ibid. 183; is compared
with Juno in that she is both sister
and wife of her husband, ibid. 282;
doomed by Nero to exile and death,
ibid. 868; banished to Panditaria,
ibid. 971.

Odrysian House, that is, of the
Thracian king, Tereus, whose house
was polluted by a horrible banquet
in which his own son was served up
to him, Thy. 273.

OEDIPUS (Oedipus, Phoenissae),
the son of Jocasta and of Laius,
king of Thebes. An oracle had
declared that Laius should meet
death at the hands of his son.
Oedipus was accordingly doomed
before birth to be slain, Oed. 34,
235; Phoen. 243; at birth he was
exposed upon Mt. Cithaeron, ibid.
13, *27, with an iron rod through his
ankles, ibid. 254; Oed. 857; carried
by a shepherd and given to Merope,
wife of the king of Corinth, by
whom he was brought up as her own
son, ibid. 806; grown to young man-
hood, he fled the kingdom of his
supposed parents that he might not
fulfil an oracle that had come to
him, that he should kill his father
and wed his mother, ibid. 12, 263;
in the course of his flight he met and
killed Laius, his real father, Phoen.
166, 260; Oed.j68, 782; he answered
the riddle of the Sphinx, and so
saved Thebes from that pest, Phoen.

Mythological Index

523

120; Oed. *92, 216; as a reward
for this he gained the throne of
Thebes, and Jocasui (his real
mother) as his wife, Oed. 104;
Phoen. 50, 26a; Oed. 386; H. Fur.
3S8; attempts to find out the mur-
derer of King Laius, and utters a
mighty curse upon the unknown
criminal, ibid. *257; declared by
the ghost of Laius, which Tiresias
had raised, to be his father's mur-
derer and his mother's husband, ihid.
♦634; he refutes this charge by the
assertion that his father and mother
are still living in Corinth, ibid. 661;
learns by messenger that Polybus
and Merope arc not his true parents,
ibid. 784; rushes on his fate and
forces old Phorbas to reveal the
secret of his birth, ibid. *848; in a
frenzy of grief, he digs out his eyes,
ibid. 915; goes forth into exile, thus
lifting the curse from Thebes, ibid.
1042; Phoen. 104; he begs Antigone,
who alone had followed him into
exile, to leave him, bewailing his
fate and longing for death, ibid. 1.

Ogyges, a mythical founder and king
of Thebes; hence —

Ogygian, i. e., Theban, an epithet of
Bacchus, whose mother was a The-
ban princess, Oed. 437; an epithet
of the Thebans, ibid. 589.

OIleus, used instead of his son, Ajax,
Med. 662. See Ajax.

Olexus, a city in Aetolia, Tro. 826;
Oed. 283; hence —

Oelexian Goat, so called because
it was nurtured in the vicinity of
this place. See Amai.thea.

OMPHALE, a queen of I.ydia, to whose
service Hercules submitted for tl
year-, //. Get. *37I, 573; H. Fur.
465; Hip. 317. See Hkrcules.

Ophxon, one of the companions of
Cadmus, sprung from the serpent's
teeth; in adjectival form, it means
simply Theban, //. Fur. 268; refer-
ring to Pentheus, Oed. \

OPHlCcurs, the northern constella-
tion of the "Serpent Holder," repre-

senting a man holding a serpent,
Med. 698.

ORESTES {Agamemnon), son of
Agamemnon and Clytcmnestra,
Agani. 196; Tro. 555; saved by his
sister, through the agency of Stro-
phius, king of Phocis, from death at
the hands of his mother and Aegis-
thus, Again. 910; avenged his
father's murder, Oct. 62.

Orion, said to have been miraculously
generated by Jupiter, Neptune, and
Mercury, out of an ox's hide; set
as a constellation in the heavens,
where his glittering sword menaces
the heavenly ones, H. Fur. 12.

Orpheus, the son of Apollo and the
muse Calliope, Med. 625; king of
Thrace; one of the Argonauts; a
sweet singer and harper, whose mu-
sic could draw to him the rocks and
trees, ibid. 228; H. Oet. *io36;
dropped his lyre in fear of the
Symplegades, Med. 348; played so
sweetly that the Argonauts were not
enchanted by the Sirens, ibid. *355;
went to hades in search of his wife,
Eurydice, and by the charm of his
music persuaded the gods of the
lower world to release her; but he
lost her again, because he did not
keep the condition imposed upon
him, //. Fur. **569; H. Oet. *io6i;
Med. 632; he sang that nothing is
everlasting, H. Oet. 1035, 1100;
his tragic death at the hands of the
Thracian women, Med. *62$.

P

Pactolus, a river of Lydia, celebrated
for its golden sands, Phoen. 604;
Oed. 467.

I\\i \\\ an appellation given to Apollo,
who gained the oracle at Delphi and
earned a place in heaven by slaying
the Python, //. Oet. 92.

PALAEMON, once a mortal, called
Melj( erta, 30I] of Athamas and Ino,

but changed by Neptune into a

divinity, Oed. 448. S1.1 Ino.
PALAM&DES, s<>n of Xauplius, king of
Euboea; he was put to death by the
Greeks on false charges brought by

524

The Tragedies of Seneca

Ulysses, and was avenged by his
father, who displayed false lights to
the Greek fleet, Again. 568.

Pallas, an appellation given to the
goddess Minerva. She was the
friend and helper of Hercules in his
various labors, H. Fur. 900; the
bearer of the terrible aegis upon
which was set the horrible Medusa's
head, ibid. 902; Again. 530; the
patroness of woman's handicrafts,
Hip. 103; the patron goddess of the
Athenians, ibid. 1149; helps to
overthrow Troy, Again. 370; stirs
up the storm at sea against the
Greek ships, ibid. 529; wields the
thunderbolts of Jove, with which
she destroys Ajax, the son of Oiileus,
ibid. *532; hymn in praise of, ibid.
368-81; helped in the building of
the Argo, Med. 2, 365.

Pandataria, a lonely island off the
coast of Italy, used as a place of
exile under the Empire, Oct. 972.

PandIon, a mythical king of Athens,
father of Procne and Philomela,
both of whom were changed to birds.
These "Pandionian birds" are cited
as types of grief-stricken beings,
Oct. 8.

Parcae, the three personified fates
("harsh sisters"), who spin out the
threads of human life, H. Fur. 181;
represented with the distaff in hand,
ibid. 559. See Clotho and
Lachesis.

Paris, son of Priam and Hecuba.
He was doomed before birth to
destroy his native land, Tro. 36;
exposed to die on Mount Ida, but
preserved by shepherds and brought
up in ignorance of his true parentage,
Again. 733; the famous "judgment
of Paris," Tro. 66; from Helen's
standpoint, ibid. 920; Cassandra, in
her inspired ravings, describes this
scene, Again. *73o; goes to the
court of Menelaiis and abducts
Helen, Tro. 70; slays Achilles, ibid.
347. 956-

Parrhasian (i. e., Arcadian) hind,
captured by Hercules as his third

labor, Agam. 831; bear, Hip. 288;
axis (i. e., Northern), H. Oet. 1281.

Pasipfiae, a daughter of the Sun and
Persci's, and wife of Minos, king of
Crete; conceived an unnatural
passion for a bull, Hip. 113, 143;
mother of the bull-man monster,
the Minotaur, ibid. *688.

Patroclus, one of the Grecian chiefs
before Troy, beloved friend of
Achilles; he fought in disguise in
Achilles' armor, Agam. 617; was
slain by Hector, Tro. 446.

Pegasus, a winged horse, offspring of
Neptune and Medusa; used to illus-
trate extreme speed, Tro. 385.

Peleus, son of Aeacus, and king of
Thessaly; married the sea-goddess,
Thetis, Oct. 708; Med. 657; father
of Achilles, Tro. 247, 882; Agam.
616; one of the Argonauts, died in
exile, Med. 657.

Pelias, the usurping king of Iolchos
in Thessaly, whence he drove the
rightful king, Aeson, the father of
Jason. It was he who proposed
the Argonautic expedition, and for
this he was doomed to suffer a violent
death, Med. 664; tricked by Medea,
his daughters slew him, cut him in
pieces, and boiled these in a pot in
the expectation that through the
magic of Medea Pelias would come
forth rejuvenated, Med. 133, 201,
258, 47s, 913.

Pelion, a range of mountains in
Thessaly whose principal summit
rises near Iolchos; the giants piled
Pelion, Ossa, and Olympus, one on
another, in their attempt to scale
the heavens, H. Fur. 971; Tro. 829;
Agam. *346; Thy. 812; H. Oet.
1 152; the home of the Centaur,
Chiron, who educated the young
Achilles, H. Fur. 971; Tro. *S>t,o;
furnished the timbers for the Argo,
Med. 609.

PelopIa, a daughter of Thyestes, who
became by him the mother of Aegis-
thus, Agam. 30, 294.

Pelops, the son of Tantalus; he was
slain by his father and served as a

Mythological Index

525

banquet to the gods, Thy. *i\\\
restored by the gods to life, and

Tantalus punished (see Tantalus);
Tantalus and Pclops models for
outrageous sin, ibid. 242; his house
doomed to sin, ibid. 22; degenerate
and shameful, ibid. 625; supposed
to have been the settler of the Pel-
oponnesus (whence the name of the
land), having come from Phrygia,
II. Pur. 1 165; Tro. 855; Agam.
563; his palace described at length,
Thy. *6+i.

Pelorus, a promontory in Sicily oppo-
site the coast of Italy; Sicilian
Pelorus shall be one land with
Italy — stated as type of the last
extreme of improbability, H. Oet.
81; the sea-monster Scylla was
supposed to dwell under this prom-
ontory, Med. 350.

Pentuksilea, a celebrated queen of
the Amazons, who came to the aid
of Priam; she was armed with
battle-axe and moon-shaped shield,
Agam. 217; her fierce struggles in
battle described, Tro. 672; slain by
Achilles, ibid. 243.

Pkxtheus, a king of Thebes, son of
Echion and Agave; he opposed the
introduction of the worship of Bac-
chus into his kingdom; while
spying on his mother and her sisters
who were engaged in the worship of
Bacchus on Mt. Cithaeron, he was
torn in pieces by them whom Bac-
chus had driven to madness, Phoen.
l5> 363'> Oed. 44 1, 4S3; his shade
comes up from hades, torn and
bleeding still, ibid. 618.

Pkriclymkxus, a son of Neptune, who
had power of changing into various
forms; he was one of the Arg< inauts,
and was slain by Hercules, Med. 635.

Perseus, son of Danac whom Jove
approached in the form of a golden
shower, H. Fur. 13; earned a place
in heaven by slaying the Gorgon,
H. Oet. 51, 94.

PHAEDRA (Hippolyt us or Plmedra) ,
daughter of Minos, king of Crete,
and Pasiphae, daughter of the Sun,

Hip. 155, 156, 678, 688, 888; the
Minotaur is her brother, ibid. 174;
Ariadne was her sister, ibid. 760,
245; bewails her exile from Crete,
and her marriage to a foreign and a
hostile prince (Theseus), ibid. 85;
confesses to her nurse that she is
swayed by an unnatural passion,
ibid. 113; confesses her love to
Hippolytus, ibid. 640; is scorned by
him, ibid. *67i; confesses her sin
to her husband and slays herself,
ibid. 1 159.

Phaethon, son of Clymene and Phoe-
bus; desiring to prove his sonship
to Phoebus, he claimed the privilege
of driving his father's chariot for
one day; he was hurled from the car
by the runaway steeds, Hip. 1090;
and smitten to death by a thunder-
bolt of Jove, H. Oet. 854; he is a
warning against over-ambition and
impious daring, ibid. 677; Med. 599;
gave a magic fire to Medea, ibid.
826.

Phaethontiades, the sisters of Phae-
thon, who immoderately wept for
his death where his charred body
fell on the banks of the Po, and were
changed into poplar trees, H. Oet.
188.

Phasis, a river of Colchis, the country
of Medea, Med. 44, 211, 451, 762;
Hip. 907; Agam. 120; Medea
named from the river, H. Oet. 950.

Pherae, a city in Thessalv, ruled over
by Admetus, husband of Alcestis,
who died herself that SO she might
redeem him from death, Med. 663;
it was here that Apollo, being doom-
ed to serve a mortal for a year, kept
the flocks of Admetus, II . Fur. 451.

PHILOCTETES {Hercules Octacus),
a Thessalian prince, son of Po
and a friend of Hercules; he ap-
pears upon the scene of the death of
Hercules, H. Oet. 1604; receives the
famous bow and arrows of Hercules,
ibid. 1648; applies the torch to the
pyre of bis friend, ibid. 1727; de-
scribes in detail to the DUTSe the
death of Hercules, ibid. *i6io.

526

The Tragedies of Seneca

Phojfpz, a city of Thrai i , < elebrated
by the victory gained there by
Antony and Octavianus over the
forcesof Brutus and Cassius, 4 V/.516.

Philomela, a daughter of Pandion,

king of Alliens, and sister of Procne,
who had married Tereus, king of
Thrace; she Buffered outrage at his
hands, and, with her sister, punished
him by slaying his son Itys and
serving him to the father; she was
changed into a nightingale, and
ever mourns for Itys, Agam. 670;
II. Oet. 199; described, except for
her name (Thracia pellex), purely
as a nightingale singing at sunrise
and hovering over her young, H.
Fur. 146.
Piiisf.us, king of Salmydcssus on the
coast of Thrace; blind and tor-
mented by the Harpies, Thy. 154;
still in hades, as on earth, tor-
mented, H. Fur. 759.

Phlegethon, a river in the lower
world, flowing with streams as of
fire, Oed. 162; Thy. 73, 1018; it
encircles the guilty with its fiery
streams, Hip. 1227; mentioned
instead of the Styx, as the river over
which Charon rows his boat, Agam.
753; connotes hades in general,
Hip. 848.

Phlegra, a vale in Thrace where the
giants fought with the gods, Thy.
810; Hercules assisted the gods in
this struggle, H. Fur. 444.

Phoebus, one of the names of Apollo
as the "shining one." Under this
name he is most frequently con-
ceived of as the sun-god, driving his
fiery chariot across the sky, seeing
all things, darkening his face or
withdrawing from the sky at sight
of monstrous sin, lord of the chan-
ging seasons, etc., H. Fur. 595, 607,
844, 940; Phoen. 87; Med. 728,
874; Hip. 889; Oed. 250; Agam.
42, 816; Thy. 776, 789, 838; H.
Oet. 2, 680, 792, 1387, 1439, 1442;
his sister is Luna, or Phoebe, H.
Fur. 905; Med. 86; Hip. 311;
Oed. 44; the name, Phoebus, is
frequently used merely of the sun,

its bright light, its burning heat, etc
without personification, H. Fur.
25, 940; Tro. 1 140; Med. 298, 768;
Oed. 122, 540, 545; Agam. 463, 577;
Thy. 602; H. Oet. 41, 337, 666, 688,
727, 1022, 1581, 1624, 1699; he is
more intimately concerned in the
affairs of men, and appears on earth;
he is the grandfather of Medea,
Med. 512; the father of Pasiphae,
Hip. 126, 154, 654, 889; the lover
and inspirerof Cassandra, Tro. 978;
Agam. 255, 722; he is god of
prophesy, giving oracles to mortals,
Med. 86; Oed. 20, 34, 214, 222, 225,
231. 235, 269, 288, 291, 296, 719,
1046; Agam. 255, 294, 295; he is
god of the lyre, H. Fur. 906; Oed.
498; Agam. 327; and of the bow,
11. Fur. 454; Hip. 192; Agam.
327, 549; his tree is the laurel, Oed.
228, 453; Agam. 588; Cilia is dear
to him, Tro. 227; he is the beautiful
god of the flowing locks, Hip. 800;
worshiped under the name of
Smintheus, Agam. 176; hymn in
praise of, ibid. 310; slew the Python
with his arrows, H. Fur. 454;
exposed the shame of Venus and for
this cause Venus' wrath is upon his
descendants, Hip. 126; he kept
the flocks of Admetus, king of
Pherae, for a year, ibid. 296.

PHORBAS (Oedipus), an old man,
head shepherd of the royal flocks,
forced by Oedipus to tell the secret
of the king's birth, Oed. 867.

Phrixus, son of Athamas and Neph-
ele, and brother of Helle; persecuted
by his stepmother, Ino, he fled
away through the air with his sister
upon a golden-fleeced ram obtained
from Mercury, Tro. 1034; on the
way Helle fell into the sea, called
Hellespont from this incident, H.
Oet. 776; for this same reason the
Aegean Sea is called Phrixian Sea,
Agam. 565; Phrixus fared on alone
to Colchis, where he sacrificed the
ram and presented the golden fleece
to Aeetes; the golden fleece was
the object of the quest of the Argo-
nauts, Med. 361, 471.

Mythological Index

527

Pirithous, a son of Ixion, Hip. 1235;
a close friendship existed between
him and Theseus, and they shared
all their adventures; when Pirithous
formed the mad project of stealing
Proserpina from hades, Theseus
accompanied him thither, ibid. 94,
244, 831.

Pisa, an ancient city of Klis where the
Olympic games, sacred to Jove,
were held, H. Fur. 840; Thy. 123;
Agam. 938.

Pisces, the zodiacal constellation of
the Fish, Thy. 866.

Pleiades, called also Atlantides, the
seven daughters of Atlas and
Pleione, three of whom, Elcctra,
Maia, and Taygete, were beloved
of Jove, H. Fur. 10; spoken of as a
constellation which pales before the
moon, Med. 96.

Plisthenes, a son of Thyestes, slain
by Atreus, Thy. 726.

Pluto, brother of Jupiter and Nep-
tune, and lord of the under world of
shades, H. Fur. 560, 658; Oed. 256,
869; Med. 11; Hip. 625, 1240;
U. Oet. 559, 935, 938, 1 142, 1369,
1954; he is called the "grim Jove,"
H. Fur. 608, and the "dark Jove,"
H. Oet. 1705; he obtained his king-
dom by drawing lots with his two
brothers, H. Fur. 833; his wife is
Proserpina, ibid. 658; Theseus and
Pirithous try to steal his wife, Hip.
95; they are punished by being
placed upon an enchanted rock,
ibid. 625; he is prevailed upon by
Hercules to give up Cerberus to be
led to the upper world, H . Fur. 805;
H. Oet. 559; at the same time
he gives up Theseus to Hercules,
H. Fur. 805; Hip. 11 52; he is the
uncle of Hercules, //. Oet. 328;
and of Pallas, Hip. 1152; unmoved
by tears, H. Fur. 578; conquered
by the music of Orpheus, ibid. 582;
his court and appearance described,
ibid. *-j2i.

Pollux, see Castor.

Polybus, king of Corinth, who
adopted and reared the exposed

infant, Oedipus, Oed. 12, 270; his
peaceful death announced by mes-
senger to Oedipus, ibid. 784.

POLYNICES (Phoenissae), son of
Oedipus and Jocasta; wronged l>y
his brother Eteocles in the matter
of the kingdom of Thebes, he Bed
to Adrastus, king of Argos, who
gave him refuge and made him his
son-in-law. To avenge Polynices,
Adrastus marched against Thebes
with an army headed by seven
famous chiefs of Greece, Phoen.
58, 320; Oedipus prophesies this
fraternal strife and predicts that
the brothers will slay each other,
ibid. 273, 334, 355; remains in
exile at the court of Adrastus three
years before returning against
Thebes to enforce his rights, ibid.
370, *502; the hardships of his
exile described, ibid. *586; appears
before the walls of Thebes at the
head of an army, ibid. 387; the
battle pauses while Jocasta app
to her sons, ibid. 434. See
Eteocles.

PoLVXKNA, a daughter of Priam and
Hecuba, one of the captive Trojan
women; the ghost of Achilles, who
in life had been enamored of her,
and with whom both Priam and
Hector had had negotiations touch-
ing the maiden, appears to the
Greeks and demands that she be
now sacrificed on the tomb of
Achilles, Tro. 170; Calchas ratifies
her doom, ibid. 360; Helen an-
nounces this fate to her, and she
receives it with joy, ibid. 945; her
death des< ribed in detail by a mes-
senger, ibid. *ni7; she is described
as gaily leading the Trojan maidens
in a dance about the wooden horse,
unconscious of the doom so soon to
come to her, Agam. 641.

Pi HTA1. \ ( hl.ivia), one of the most
beautiful and unscrupulous women

of her time; she was first married to

Rufus Crispinus, a prefect of pre-
torian cohorts under Claudius;
she abandoned him for < ►tho, and

him, in turn, she left to become the

The Tragedies of Seneca

mistress «>f Nero, and the rival of
Nero's wife, Octavis, Oct. 125; in
order i" further her schemes she
influenced Nero to murder his
mother, ibid. u(>; demanded the
death of ( >< tavia, ibid. 131 ; with
child by Nero, ibid. 188, 591; her
rejection by Nero prophesied, ibid.
[93; her beauty lauded by Nero,
who announced her as his next
wife, ibid. 544; her wedding with
Nero cursed by the ghost of Agrip-
pina, ibid. 595; her marriage de-
scribed, ibid. *6q8; is terrified by
strange dream of Agrippina's ghost,
and of her former husband, Cris-
pinus, ibid. *"]i2.

PRIAM, king of Troy; in his youth, at
the first taking of Troy, he was
spared by Hercules and allowed to
retain the throne, Tro. 719; pic-
tured as viewing the contending
hosts from the battlements of Troy
in company with his little grandson,
Astyanax, ibid. *io68; sues to
Achilles for the dead body of
Hector, ibid. 315, 324; his city
destroyed through the baleful power
of love, Oct. 817; description of his
death at the hands of Pyrrhus,
Tro. *44; Again. 655; he fell before
the altar of Hercean Jove, Agam.
448, 792; pathetic contrast of his
death with his former greatness,
Tro. 140.

Procne, daughter of Pandion, and
wife of Tereus, king of Thrace; she,
in revenge for the outrage upon her
sister, Philomela, committed by her
husband, served to him his own
son, Itys, H. Oet. 953; Agam. 673;
Thy. 275.

Procrustes, a famous robber of
Attica, killed by Theseus, Hip.
1 170; Thy. 1050.

Proetides, daughters of Proetus,
king of Argohs; they counted
themselves more beautiful than
Juno, and also refused to worship
Bacchus. The god drove them to
a madness in which they thought
themselves cows, and went wan-
dering through the woods. This

ad won for him the favor of Juno,
Oed. 486.
Prometheus, a son of lapetus and
Clymene; he gave the gift of fire to
mortals, Med. 8ai; for this a< t he
was bound by Jove's command to a
«rag of Mount Caucasus, where an
eagle fed upon his ever-renewed
vitals, H. Fur. 1206; Med. 709;
H. Oet. 1378.

Proserpina, daughter of Ceres and
Jupiter; stolen away by Pluto and
made his queen in hades, Med. 12;
II. Fur. 1 105; sought in vain by
her mother over the whole world,
ibid. 659; Pirithous and Theseus
attempted to steal her away from
the lower world, Hip. 95.

Proteus, son of Oceanus and Tethys,
shepherd and guardian of the sea-
calves, Hip. 1205.

Pylades, son of Strophius, king of
Phocis, and one of the sisters of
Agamemnon; he accompanied his
father as charioteer on the occasion
of Strophius' visit to Argos just
after Agamemnon's murder; they
take Orestes away and so save him
from death, Agam. 940.

PyromantIa, soothsaying by means
of fire, practiced by Tiresias in his
effort to discover the murderer of
La'ius, Oed. *t,o-].

Pyrrha, the sister of Deucalion,
saved with him from the flood, Tro.
1038. See Deucalion.

PYRRHUS (Troades), a son of the
young Achilles and De'idamia, the
daughter of Lycomedes, king of
Scyros; born on the island of
Scyros, Tro. 339; quarreled with
Ulysses inside the wooden horse,
Agam. 635; slew old Priam, Tro.
44, 3ID-

Python, a huge serpent or dragon
that sprang from the slime of the
earth after the flood had subsided;
slain by Apollo, H. Oet. 93; Med.
700.

R

Rhadamanthus, a son of Jupiter and
Europa, and brother of Minos; he

Mythological Index

529

was made one of three judges in
hades, H. Fur. 734.
Rhesus, a king of Thrace who came,

late in the Trojan War, to the aid
of Priam; there was an oracle that
Troy could never be taken if the
horses of Rhesus should drink the
waters of the Xanthus, and feed
upon the grass of the Trojan plain;
this oracle was frustrated by Ulysses
and Diomcdes, A gam. 216.

Saturn, son of Coelus and Terra,
who succeeded to his father's king-
dom of the heavens and earth;
the golden age was said to have
been in his reign, Oct. 395; had
been dethroned by his three sons,
Jupiter, Neptune, and Pluto, who
divided up his kingdom among
themselves; he is conceived of as
chained in hades by Pluto, H. Oet.
1 141; Hercules threatens to unchain
him against Jove unless the latter
grant him a place in heaven, H.
I ■ ur. 965.

Scales {Libra), the zodiacal constel-
lation marking the autumnal equi-
nox, H. Fur. 842.

Sciron, a celebrated robber in Attica,
who threw his victims over the
cliffs into the sea; he was slain by
Theseus, Hip. 1023, 1225.

Scorpion, one of the zodiacal constel-
lations, Thy. 859.

Scylla, one of the two shipwrecking
monsters in the Sicilian Strait, H.
Fur. 376; H. Oet. 235; Med. 350,
407; Thy. 579. See Charybdis.

Scythia, a name given by the an-
cients to a portion of northern Asia
of indefinite extent; a dcs< ription of
its nomadic tribes, frozen streams,
changing aspect of the country with
the changing seasons, //. Fur. *533-

Semele, a Theban princess, daughter
of Cadmus, beloved of Jove by
whom she became the mother 1 if
Bacchus, H. Fur. 16; she was
blasted by a thunderbolt while the
child, Bacchus, was still unborn,

//. Fur. 457; //. Oet. 1804. See
I'> acchus.
SENECA {Octavia), introduced into
the play in the character of Nero's
counselor, Oct. 377; he recalls his
life in exile in Corsica, and con-
siders it far happier and safer than
his present life, ibid. 381; he strives
in vain to prevent the marriage
of Nero and Poppaea, ibid. 695.

Seres, a nation of Asia, supposed to
be identical with the Chinese; they
gather silken threads (spun by the
silkworm) from trees, H. Oet. 666;
Hip. 389-

Silanus, L. Junius, praetor in a. d.
49; he was the betrothed husband
of Octavia, but put out of the way
by court intriguers that Octavia
might marry Nero, Oct. 145.

Silenus, a demigod, the foster-father
and constant attendant of Bacchus,
Oed. 429.

Sinis, a giant robber of the Isthmus
of Corinth, who bent down tree-
tops and, fixing his victims to thi
shot them through the air; he was
slain by Theseus, H. Oet. 1393;
Hip. 1 169, 1223.

Sinon, a Greek warrior, who deceived
the Trojans as to the character and
purpose of the wooden horse, and
so procured the downfall of Troy,
Tro. 39; Agam. +626.

Sipylus, a mountain in Phrygia, on
whose top Niobe, changed to stone,
was said to sit and weep eternally
over her lost children, //. Oct. 185;
Agam. 394; U. Fur. 391. See
Niobe.

Sirens, mythical maidens dwelling on
an island of the ocean, wh
beautiful singing lured sailors to
destruction, //. Oet. 190; they
were passed in safety by the Argo-
nauts because Orpheus played
sweeter music, Med. 355.

Sisyphus, the son of Aeolus, was said
to have- been the founder of ancient
Corinth, and father of Creon, Med.
512, 776; Ocd. 282; for his dis-
obedience to the gods he was set to

53°

Piii Tragedies of Seneca

rolling a huge stone up a hill in
hades, which ever rolled back again
and so renewed his toil, Med. 71";
Hip. 1 :.?o; Agam. r6; //. Jur.
751; Thy. 6; Oct. 6aa; //. ( )<•/.
942, ioioj the stone followed the
magical music of Orpheus, ibid.
ro8i.

Sminiihts, an epithet of Phoebus
Apollo, Again. 176.

Sol, the bud personified as the sun-
god, used with the same force as
Phoebus, //. Fur. 37, 61; Med. 29,
210; 77/y. 637, 776, 789, 822, 990,
1035; Hip. 124, 1 091; II. Oet. 150.

SOMNUS, the god of sleep, brother of
death, //. Fur. 1069; called the son
of Astraea, ibid. 1068; character-
istics, symbols, and powers de-
scribed at length, ibid. *io65.

Sphinx, a fabulous monster with the
face of a woman, the breast, feet,
and tail of a lion, and the wings of
a bird; sent to harass Thebes, slay-
ing everyone who passed her and
who could not answer her riddle,
Oed. 246; Phoen. 120, 131; Oedi-
pus' encounter with her described,
Oed. *92; slain by Oedipus, ibid.
641; seen by Creon among the
shapes in hades, called by him the
"Ogygian (i. e., Boeotian or
Theban) pest," ibid. 589; used as
type of winged speed, Phoen. 422.

STROPHIUS {Agamemnon), see Py-
LADES.

Stympiialian Birds, monstrous crea-
tures haunting a pool near the town
of Stymphalus in Arcadia; they
were killed by Hercules as his sixth
labor, H. Fur. 244; Med. 783;
Agam. 850; H. Oet. 1237, 1890;
used as type of winged speed,
Phoen. 422.

Styx, a river of hades, H. Fur. 780;
Oed. 162; over which spirits must
pass into the world of the dead, the
river of death; in Seneca, this con-
ception is not confined to the Styx,
but is used of that river in common
with the Acheron, H. Fur. *"jiy,
Hip. 1 180; Agam. 608; the

Lethe, Hip. [48; //. Oet. ti6i,

155:'; and I lie I'lllegethon, Agam.
*75o; it is upon the Styx alone,
however, thai the gods swear their
inviolable oaths, //. bur. 713;
Hip. cM \\ Thy. 666; //. ( >et. 10(1(1;
from meaning the river of death, it
comes to mean death itself, //. bur.
I,s5> 55s; in i's most frequent use,

the river signifies I he lower world in

general, the land of the dead; so

are found Stygian "shades,"

"homes," "caverns," "ports,"

"gales," "borders," "torches,"

"tires.'' etc., //. Fw. 54, 90, 104,

1 131; Tro. 430; Med. 632, 804; Hip.

477. 625> 928> "51; Oed. 396, 401,

621; Agam. 493; Thy. 1007; H.

Oet. 77, 560, 1014, 1 145, 1 198,

1203, 1711, 1766, 1870, 1919, 1983;

Oct. 24, 79, 135, 162, 263, 594;

Cerberus is the "Stygian dog" and

"Stygian guardian," Agam. 13;

Hip. 223; H. Oet. 79, 1245; tne

"dee]j embrace of Styx" is the pit

which Andromache prays may

open up beneath Hector's tomb and

hide Astyanax, Tro. 520; the boat

on which Agrippina was to meet her

death is called the Stygian boat,

Oct. 127.

Symplegades (the "dashers"), two

rocks or crags at the entrance of the

Euxine Sea which, according to

tradition, clashed together when

any object passed between them;

escaped by the Argo, Med. 341,

456, 610; Hercules prays that he

may be crushed to death between

these rocks, H. Fur. 1210; used as

a type of a hard crag, H. Oet. 1273,

1380.

T
Taenarus (also written Taenara),
a promontory on the southernmost
point of the Peloponnesus, near
which was a cave, said to be the
entrance to the lower world, Tro.
402; H. Fur. 587, *663, 813; Oed.
171; Hip. 1203; H. Oet. 1 06 1,
1771.
Tagus, a river of Spain, celebrated
for its golden sands, H. Fur. 1325;
Thy. 354; H. Oet. 626.

Mythological Inih \

S31

TANTALUS (Thyestes) (i), a king of
Lydia, son of Jupiter and the
nymph, Pluto, father of Pelops and
of Niobe, //. Fur. t,qo; Oea. 613;
Med. 954; A gam. ^j:; //. Oet.
198; because of his outrageous sin
against the gods (see P lops) he
was doomed to suffer in hades
endless pangs of hunger and thirst,
with fruit and water almost within
reach of his lips, H. Fur. *75-\
Hip. 1^2; A gam. 19; Thy. ion;
Oct. 631; his sin described and
punishment portrayed in detail,
Thy. *i37; his ghost appears,
ribes his sufferings in hades,
and is incited by a fury to urge on
his bouse to greater crimes, ibid. 1;
Deianira prays that she may 1
his punishment upon herself, H.
Oet. 943; Medea prays that he may
come and drink of the waters of
Corinth, and that Creon may take
his place in hades, Med. 745; used
as type of outrageous sinner, Thy.
242; he forgets his thirst in his
grief for the disasters whit h threaten
his house, Agam. 769; he forgets
his thirst under the influence of
Orpheus' music, H. Oet. 1075.

TANTALUS {Thyestes) (2), one of
the sons of Thyestes, great-grand-

d of Tantalus (1), encourages his
father to hope for reconciliation with
his brother, Atreus, Thy. \:\: slain
by Atreus, ibid. 7

Tartarus (also written Tartara), in
its strict sense, that portion of the
lower world devoted to the punish-
ment <>f the wicked, hell, the abode
of the furies and of those like

l antalus, Ixion, etc., who are suf-
fering torments, //. Fur. 86; <

t6i; Med. 742; Oct. 905; in the
great majority of cases, however,

I artarus is the lower world in

general, whence ghosts come ba< k to

■::. 2; Oct. 593; to whieh

« kpheus went in sean h of his wife,

Med. 633; //. Oet. 1064; to which

Hercules went to bring thence

rberus, H. Oet. 461; Hip. 844;

where was the palace of Dis, ibid.

951; Agam. 7^r; where Cerberus
inds guard, //. bur. 649; //. Oet.

1770; where are the '• Tartarian
pools," Hip. 1170; and so in gen-
eral, //. Fur. 436, 710, 889, 1235;
Oetl. 869; l'lwf.]. 1 1 1 C45; Thy.
1013, 1071; //. Oet. 1136, 1 1 19,
151 1, 1765, 1779; Oct. 233, 64 1.

Taurus, the second zodiacal constel-
lation, the Bull, which poets feign

was the bull in the form of whi< h
Jupiter bore Europa from Phoe-
nicia to Crete, //. Fur. 9, 952;
Thy. 852.
Telki'ih s, a king of Mysia, wounded
by Achilles' spear, and afterward
cured by application of the rust
scraped from its point, 'Fro. 215.

Teretjs, a king of Thrace, whose
barbarous feast upon bis own son,
Itys, is called the "Thracian crin
Thy. 56. See Philomela and

I'! II

Tethys, the goddess of the sea, u~<<\
frequently for the sea itself, in which
the sun set-, and from which it rises,
Hip. 571, [l6i; II . Fur. 887, 1328;
Tro. S79; Med. 378; H. Oct. 1252,
1902.

Thebes, the capital city of Boeotia,
founded by Cadmus, II. Fur. 268;
its walls built by the magic of
Amphion's lyre, ibid. 202; famed
for frequent visits of the gods,
pecially of Jove, ibid. 265;
plague-smitten under < >edipus, who

laments the disaster, Oed.

pla 1 ribed at length by the

chorus, ibid. * 1 25; a curse fell upon
Thebes from the time of Cadmus,
ibid. *709; conquered by Lycus,
the usurper, who slew Kini^ Creon,
the father of Megara, //. Fur. 270;
scene of the Hercules Furens,
Oedipus, and Phoenissae (in ]>art).

THESE1 S [Hercules Furens, Hip-
polytus), king of Ath of

^egeus and Aethra, daughter of
Pittheus, king of Troezene; accord-
ing to tradition also reputed the SOD
of Neptune, who had granted him
three wishes, Hip.
the last of whil h he used against his

The Tragedies o v Seneca

^•>n, Hippolytus, ibid. 045; went to
Crete to slay the Minotaur; his

beautiful appearance desi ribed, ibid.

*<>.if», 10(17; finds his way out of the
Labyrinth by aid of a thread given
him by Ariadne, ibid. 050,662; fled
with Ariadne, hut deserted her on

Naxos, Oed. 488; was the cause of

his father's death, since he did not

display the white sail on his return
to Athens from slaying the Mino-
taur, Hip. 11(15; married Antiope,
the Amazon, who became the
mother of Hippolytus, but after-
ward slew her, ibid. 226, 927, 1 167;
married Phaedra, ibid, passim; went
to hades with his bosom friend,
Pirithoiis, to assist the latter in
carrying away Proserpina, ibid. 91,
627; the two were apprehended
by Dis and set upon an enchanted
rock which held them fast, H. Fur.
1339; Theseus was rescued by
Hercules, ibid. 806; H. Oet. 1197,
1768; Hip. 843; returns from
hades, ibid. 829.

Thespiades, the fifty daughters of
Thespius, loved by Hercules, H.
Oet. 369.

THETIS, a sea-goddess, daughter of
Nereus; she was given as wife to
Peleus, Med. 657; Oct. 707; and
became by him the mother of
Achilles, Tro. 346, 880; Agam. 616;
to keep her son from the Trojan
War she hid him disguised in gar-
ments of a girl at the court of King
Lycomedes, Tro. 213; but this
ruse was discovered and exposed by
Ulysses, ibid. 569.

Thule, the farthest known land, dif-
fering with different stages of devel-
opment of human knowledge; the
time will come when all lands will
be known, and there will be no
ultima Thule, Med. 379.

THYESTES (Thyestes, Agamemnon),
see Atreus.

Tiphys, the pilot of the Argo, Med.
3, 318; picture of his management
of the vessel, ibid. *3i8; grew pale
at sight of the Symplegades, ibid.
346; his tragic death, *6i7.

TIRESIAS (Oedipus), a celebrated
prophet of Thebes, father of Manto;
blind and old, he is led by his
daughter into the presence of
Oedipus, where he attempts by
various processes to discover the
murderer of I.aius, Ocd. 288; prac-
tices pyromantia, cupuonuuitia, hic-
roscopta, and later necrotnontia, ibid.
#307; discovers by the last process
that Oedipus himself slew Lai'us,
ibid. *53o.

TisipnoNE, one of the furies who
seems to appear to the distracted
Deianira, H. Oet. 1012; seems to
appear to the mad Hercules, guard-
ing the door of hell since Cerberus
has been removed, H. Fur. 984.
See Furies.

Titans, a name given to the sons
of Coelus and Terra, one of
whom was Hyperion, identified by
Homer with the sun. The Titans
warred against one of their own
number, Saturn, who had succeeded
to the throne of his father. The
word is, however, frequently con-
founded with the Giants, who
banded together to dethrone Jove;
they piled up mountains in their
attempt to scale heaven, but were
overthrown by Jove's thunderbolt
and buried under Sicily, H. Fur.
79, 967; Med. 410; Agam. '340;
H. Oet. 144, 1 21 2, 1309; in all
other passages in Seneca, Titan
means the sun, more or less com-
pletely personified as the sun-god,
lord and ruler of the day, H. Fur.

124, 133, 443. Io6o> 1333! Med-
5; Tro. 170; Hip. 678, 779; Oed.
1, 40; Thy. 120, 785, 1095; Agam.
460, 908; H. Oet. 42, 291, 423, 488,
723, 781, 891, 968, mi, 1131, 1163,
1287, 1512, 1518, 1566, 1575, 1760;
Oct. 2. See Giants, Phoebus.

Tityus, a giant, son of Earth, who
offered violence to Latona; for
this he was punished in hades,
where a vulture kept feeding upon
his ever-renewed vitals, H. Fur.
756, 977; H. Oet. 947; Hip. 1233;
Agam. 17; Thy. 9, 806; Oct. 622;

Mythological Index

533

relieved for a while by the music of

Orpheus, H. Oet. 1070.
Tmolus, a mountain in Lydia, a

favorite haunt of Bacchus, Phoen.

602.
Toxi us, a vouth slain by Hercules,

If. Oet. 214.
TRiPTOLEMTJS, son of the king of

Eleusis, through whom Ceres gave

the arts of agriculture to mankind,

Hip. 838.
Tritons, sea-deities; they sung the

marriage chorus of Achilles, Tro.

202.
Trivia, an epithet of Diana, because

she presided over places where three

roads meet, Agam. 382; Oct. 978;

applied by association to Luna, the

heavenly manifestation of Diana,

Med. *y8j.
Troilus, a son of Priam, slain by

Achilles, Agam. 748.

Troy, an ancient city of Troas, whose
walls were built by Neptune and
Apollo, Tro. 7; it was first destroyed
under the reign of Laomedon,
father of Priam, by Hercules and
I elamon, because of the perfidy
of Laomedon, Agam. 614, 862; Tro.
1 $5, *7io; its second fall was after
ten years of siege by the Greeks,
Tro. 74; her festal day turned out
to be a day of doom, Agam. 791; it
is not the Greek heroes who de-
stroyed Troy, but the lying traitor,
Sinon, who deceived the Trojans
about the wooden horse, ibid. 615;
mourning for the fall of Troy, ibid.
589; distant view of the smoulder-
ing ruins as seen by the Greek ves-
sels from the sea on their homeward
voyage, ibid. 456.

Tullia, a daughter of Servius Tullius,

king of Rome; her impious sin and

its punishment, Oct. 304.
TyNDARTJDAE, Castor and Pollux, the
sons of Jupiter and I.eda, but falsely
named from Tvndarus, the mortal
husband of Led a; their stars give
help to sailors, II. Fur. 14, 552;
Oct. 208. See Castor, Leda.

Typhoeus, one of the Giants who

fought against Jove, Med. 773;
Thy. 809.

Typhon, a giant, apparently the same
as Typhoeus, H. Oet. 1733; Oct. 238.

Tyrrhene, an epithet applied to the
band of Phoenician pirates who
attempted to kidnap Bacchus, Oed.
249; to the dolphin, in referent e to

the story of how these pirates were
changed into dolphins by the power
of Bacchus, Agam. 451; to the
Tuscan Sea, because the Etrurians
were supposed to have been of
Tyrrhenian stock, Oct. 311; and to
Inarimc, an island, possibly to be
identified with Ischia, lying in tin-
Tyrrhene sea off the coast of Cam-
pania, H. Oet. 1 156.

U

ULYSSES (Troades), Tro. passim.
V

VENUS, a goddess, sprung from the
foam of the sea, Hip. 274; she is
the goddess of love, ibid. 417, 576,

910; Oct. 545; the mother of
Cupid, the god of love, I lip. 275;
II. Oet. 543; Oct. 697; called
Erycina, because Mt. Eryx in
Sicily was sacred to her, Hip. 199;
she persecuted the stock of Phoebus
(i.e., Pasiphae and Phaedra), be-
cause that god had published her am-
ours with Mar-, {bid. 124; cursed
Messalina with insatiate lu>t, Oct.
258; the effect upon the world whi< h
the cessation of the power of Venus
would produce, Hip. **^6g; she
has no existence, but is feigned by
men as a goddess in order to excuse
their own lusts, ibid. 203; used
frequently by metonymy for the
passion of love, either lawful or
unlawful, ibid. 211, 237, 339, 417,
462, 721, 913; Agam. 183, 275, 927;
Oct. 191, 433.

Virginia, the daughter of Virginius,
slain by her father to save her from
the lust of Appius Claudius the
emvir, Oct. 296.

Virgo, the zodiacal constellation of

the Virgin, Astraea, the daughter of

534

T n k Tragedies of Seneca

Jove and Themis, who left the
• art h last <>f all the gods on account
of man's sin, Thy. S57.

Vulcan, the god of fire; forges the
thunderbolts of Jove, Hip. 190;

is pierced by Cupid's dans, ibid.
193; is called the father of Cupid

and husband of Venus, Oct. 560.
Z

/.ins, a winged sun of Boreas, who,
together with liis brother Calais, was
a member of the Argonautic expedi-
tion; they were slain by Hercules,
Med. 634; they had previously
driven away the harpies from Phin-
eus, king of Thrace, ibid. 782.

Zkthus, a Theban prince, son of
Amiope, the niece of Lycus, king
of Thebes; he and his twin brother,
Amphion, were e.\])osed in infancy
on Ml. Cithiaeron, but were saved
and brought up by shepherds.
Arrived at manhood they killed
Lycus and Diree, his wife, on ac-
count of their cruelties to Antiope,
and together reigned in Thebes.
Reference is made to their rustic
life in //. Fur. 916; the shade of
Zethus comes up from hades, still
holding by the horn the wild bull
to which he had tied Dirce, Oed.
610. See Dirce.

Jk

vsu.» x v io\r;

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Seneca, Lucius Annaeus
The tragedies

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